It has started as one of those days…and its only 7.45am.
I awoke at 645am with a sore throat - swollen glands. Shit - its only 80 and sunny and I wanted to work out after work. I rolled out of bed and made my way out the door for our morning walk.
Sagan and I have been practicing off - leash, which is an amazing feat for a greyhound. As an owner, you are told, the moment you unhook the small piece of metal hitching them to your side - they are gone like a bat out of hell. They can spot a fuzzy rabbit-like creature from a mile away and go after with no hope on your end of catching them. True, they can run upwards of 45 MPH, but I knew - or should say felt - Sagan was different. He was just too clingy. So, slowly, on the trails of Central Park (away from traffic of any kind) we started to practice. Now, 3.5 months after owning him, he has wonderful recall and stays within sight of me when he happily trots down the path. He is wonderful and pretty damn good for a grey, but not perfect. As we walked down a windy, usually empty path, Sagan came across a girl and her trainer …sniffed hello..and then peed on her large camping backpack before I could reach him. I was only 10 feet away, but in the blink of an eye, his yellow shower hit her pack. Wow, I felt (and still feel) so bad. As I apologized profusely, I reached for his collar, my hand went toward his eye - to which he howled in fright/pain. Sagan is a quiet dog unless he needs to go out so his screeching was startling. Moments later, Sagan was again hooked to me, gleefully trotting, but I remained disgruntled.
After I returned home, I crawled briefly into bed in an attempt to extract sympathy from the dear fiancé - he rambled something about not working about it and promptly returned to slumber. I left in order to caffeinate and as I reached to make more coffee, grounds from the bag spilled over the floor…and my first pot of coffee came out a light brown - the filter had folded while brewing and sabotaged my first cup of the day. Bastard.
My throat is still sore, I still feel guilty about the girls bag, the kitchen is covered in grinds, luckily Sagan seems fine, and yet I still have to go to work. I just shouldn’t. I can feel it.
