Da ba dee, da ba di

I attended the Blue Mile run today. It was, obviously, just a mile long. A run, but you were supposed to wear blue. Well, I can do that in spades. I had a blue zentai outfit, so I thought I could out-blue anyone there.
I only participated in the fun run. And I did it with the hood up. This meant that my visibility was high, but my personal visibility was low. I didn’t have trouble breathing, but I could really only see shapes. I quickly realized how awkward that was when I twisted my ankle a bit in a pothole. I took to following someone in a neon-green shirt, and assumed he would avoid the hazards on the road. If the sun was in my eyes, I was effectively blind.
I got to run on Whyte avenue for awhile, and I was fairly popular there. Better than the walk to the course where I was frequently asked “Did you lose a bet?”
In theory, if you were one of the elites, you could only win the very large prize money if you were wearing blue. Almost none of them were. I didn’t think that was in the spirit, but when they can run a mile in less than five minutes, I’m hardly one to argue.
Afterwards there was a pizza party. And then I went to Feast. All while being completely covered in electric blue.
While driving home, on Whyte avenue, I saw three girls skipping along in their own zentai outfits. I can easily come up with reasons not to go out and meet them; I’m too old for Whyte; I don’t have anything to do with them; I wouldn’t be able to find them after I parked the car; I didn’t want to get harassed by drunk people on Whyte while I’m in a full body-stocking.
I still should have gone out.

Harry S. Dog

The family dog, Harry, died in his sleep last night. He didn’t live with me, but of all the pets I’ve had, he was my favourite. This is because he only knew me as an adult. When I was little, I was not as nice to dogs as I should have been. But with Harry, I gave him attention, I scratched his ears, I took him for real exercise, and I gave him big, honking, cow bones. Dogs are always open to bribery. But even before I started giving him the bones, when I visited, he would go insane with happiness to see me. It is always nice to have someone love you.
I wasn’t responsible for picking him. I had moved away from my family when they got him. On his car ride home, he drooled a huge amount of water. In fact, in any car ride he was a nervous drooler. It took several years for him to calm down. And then he came to love the car rides. Even if he never left the car, he just liked being in it.
He was a rescue, but he had a significant amount of border collie in him. But since he didn’t have sheep to herd, he took to herding the family. He made sure we kept to a schedule: get up now, woof woof woof, eat breakfast, done breakfast so stop socializing and get to work, start making lunch, eat lunch, nap time, go get a drink, make dinner, eat dinner, go watch TV. Once he figured out the routine, he enforced it. When we went for walks, he always checked to make sure no one was straying from the pack. I took him for a run with the Running Room run club, and when I off-leashed him in Hawerlak park, he quietly circled the group.
His great love was tummy rubs. I preferred to scratch ears, but he would always show his belly and look expectedly at you.
He loved the cow bones I brought him, but in his later years he wasn’t as interested in chewing them as showing them off. He would only chew if someone would admire it while he did so. Otherwise, he just spent quality time with them. And would grown if you came to close.
He was my dog, and even though I didn’t see him all the time, he was mine. The family home will be empty without him. Who will tell us what to do now?