18 November, 2015

The Indoctrination is Nearly Complete. The Dogs Win.


You know you are hook, line & sinker in deep with your West Highland terrier(s) when you find yourself stepping into the garage to grind your coffee, so the noise doesn't startle the little white stuffies.

After our first 6 months together, I'm thrilled to report all is going well with the two and we love having them in our lives.

Is there a dark side? Well, truth be told, I was thinking about this the other day as they dragged me up our street - a life-sized arcade, launching squirrels across the road at random times - that I am not sure we will ever "solve" this Squirrel Thing. It makes me feel like I am living in a Frank Frazetta painting.
Just hold tight and be sure to breathe from the diaphragm... the squirrel is sure to vanish eventually
I expect that the sooner I embrace this, the better. To that end, I am looking forward to our first snowfall, when I will try laying down on a Crazy Carpet and let them pull me to their hearts' content. Note to self: remember my son's GoPro camera for that...

19 August, 2015

What One Person Learned from Two Dogs in Three Weeks

- After years of running races and triathlons - some of them quite long and some fairly quickly, I'd come to think of myself as a "runner." I now know, after finding myself tethered to a running West Highland Terrier (westie), I am, in fact, not.
"Donut" - photo copyright Andrea Chow

- That fundamental human skill - where we learn to holler "Off!" - is best taught by the westie command action of jumping onto things humans once considered special.
- Two individual leashes are simply in the temporary state of being what we call "untangled." Their natural condition is a tightly coiled knot, linking a hapless walker with two westies intermingling like coy in a restaurant aquarium.

- An 1800 sq. ft. house has over 1700 sq. ft. of additional space in which a westie can nap than its owners originally allowed for. This is not entirely a problem, given the incredible Swiffer-like quality of westies' coats.
- If I yelled as loudly as our two westies bark I'd be hoarse. If I ate as relentlessly as they could I'd weigh as much as a horse.
- Squirrels must have either an agenda or a perverted sense of humour, considering how rarely they stop and bob their tails around for 15 minutes unless westies are barking at them.
- A walking westie's ability to hoover anything off the ground without breaking stride is on par with its resolve to clamp its jaws shut when humans try to find out what was sucked in.
- A fence may be built to dog-proofed standards, but can only be certified once a westie has wedged, stuck, jammed, wiggled, shaken, pryed and thrust its snout along every centimetre of its length and seams, countless times a day, for several weeks. Just to be sure. Because, you never know when something might want to get in. Or out.
--
Yes, I know - two articles ago I was ranting about dog owners ignorantly blocking pathways. Now the shoe is on the other foot - we've adopted two Westie rescues. Life, it would seem, is not lived linearly.

25 May, 2015

Furthermore... I May Experience Anxiety




My new perspective on cycling comes from the ground floor. After four months of riding Milton's National Cycling Centre velodrome, I see this part of the Ontario Cycling Associations membership insurance waver in a new light:
4. Furthermore, I am aware:

a) That injuries sustained can be severe;

b) That I may experience anxiety while challenging myself during the sport of cycling and the activities, events and programs;
 While looking forward to the Pan Am / Parapan American Games this summer, I am even more anxious to tackle my fear of heights when the velodrome re-opens in September. Hopefully my flying 200m times will be the only things tumbling down.

21 March, 2015

For Runners: A New Twist on Dog Leashes

An Invention for Tumbling Runners - The Bowser Bomb




To paraphrase Lance: It's not about the dog.


It isn't often that we see the words "pedestrian" and "explosives" in the same sentence - usually for good reason - but in this case we can make an exception. By pedestrians I refer only to dog walkers of the ignorant sort, and the explosives are not so much Hollywood blockbuster finale as firecrackers. Really big firecrackers.
Before we get into the pyrotechnics, let's set the stage by considering the players in this drama:
You - the human who wants to run on a reasonably safe and pleasant route outdoors.*
The Dog – an unpredictable, free-spirited quadruped that chases vehicles, fetches balls, and snatches morsels of food from the tip of its nose quicker than you can say Jack Russell! (that last one being no mean feat, I assure you, having tried it myself countless times- and all of them at just that one party, if memory serves).
The Dog Walker – judging by its distinguishing features and largely erect, bipedal posture – a member of that sub-set of humans that serves dogs by picking up their poop and standing around idly while their animal smells things.
The Leash – any cable, string, rope, chain, or ribbon-like contrivance that tethers dog, walker, and runner into a Bermuda triangle of comical, hazardous, high-stepping dances that often result in injury, most likely to the runner.
The Problem The runner does not wish to dance; there is no music and the footwear is all wrong.

Avoiding this nonsense seems simple on the surface: if the walker and/or dog could just move to any other spot on the face of the entire earth - often just a teensy step to either side of where they are right now - it might negate the dog/leash hazard and all parties could go about their business unimpeded. We're just talking about enough clearance for a human to squeeze through, with reasonably safe footing, in an area normally roomy enough to accommodate everyone (assuming they were conscious).

The Solution an invention I've perfected at least in my mind, from the comfort of bed as I lie awake summoning the gumption to head out for early morning runs that runners can use to "manipulate the dog walker's spatial coordinates" (ie. physically move them), clearing just enough space to pass safely.

The only criteria I reckon we'd need is for it to be something that would stun more than harm, and be sufficiently light and compact to discreetly clip onto a hydration belt. Result: the Bowser Bomb.

The Simple 4-Step Bowser Bomb Process:

1) On approaching the miscreant dog walker, make all reasonable efforts to get its attention (clapping, clearing the throat, a quick toot from a hand-held Klaxon) thus giving it the opportunity to take the right action before things quickly escalate. This also affords you some measure of legal protection should questions of due process arise. Typically, unless you are downwind from a fire hydrant, the dog will notice you but its innate dearth of cat-level smarts means it will lack the executive thinking skills to figure out how to change the course of fate on its own. Plus it will be sizing you up on its own instinctive PE (play vs. edibility) scale. Remember, unlike its walker, it can't help itself; it's just a dog.
2) At this point, assuming the walker continues in its state of passive disregard (or active contempt - it all amounts to the same thing) and you are faced with stopping and turning around, jumping over the quivering leash, or blazing an ankle-twisting detour, it's time to discreetly reach for your BB. Just like a gel packet, place the BB's tab in your teeth and tear off the trigger, being sure to not swallow the contents out of habit. You can now lob the BB toward the walker, confident in your anonymity because, of course, its concussive force should render the walkers' short term memory kaput. In a perfect world the BB will soar close to the walker without making actual skin contact (superficial burns) and commence its "release of influential energy" (explode). If you've correctly matched your BB volume to the walker's general girth the results will be swift and sublime: the walker will experience a brief flight away from the BB's "event zone," simultaneously becoming limp all over. This not only cushions its landing, in the way a drunk driver usually survives collisions unharmed, but more importantly the leash is usually released, dropping to the ground and clearing the way as...
3) ... the runner strides over the grounded leash and continues running, safe and unimpeded.
4) More often than not the dog will be so impressed by this turn of events that it will just stare in slack-jawed wonderment before returning to smelling things. Should it choose to chase you, it will be more to gambol about and thank you for its new-found freedom than to take a chunk from your calf.

If it's a good day for the walker, it will not lose complete consciousness, and, instead, spring back to its feet within the half hour, likely not remembering a thing.

I'd imagine the BB will be most effective in one-owner/one-leash/one-dog confrontations. Clearly, something packing more firepower is needed to handle multi-leash dog walking services and the poly-dog clusters of stroller-pushing latte-sippers clotting up pathways in leisurely klatches that call to mind those ridiculous giant human doilies formed by suicidal parachutists linking arms in mid-air; the problem here is in the risk of running injuries when the ordnance size approaches what's used in mining and mountain highway construction. Runners might develop scoliosis if loaded down with BBs for large groups - the weight penalties alone would harmfully skew training plans. More pre-dawn tossing and turning will be needed to solve this one. If I can't sleep, at least I can dream.

* Bowser Bomb not intended for indoor use.

20 February, 2015

Baby It's Cold Outside

My Take: The Felixometer - the domestic cat as thermometer.


Must be old age - it seems very hard to justify the amount of time/hassle getting girded against the cold for a run these recent days, when wind chills drop south of -30 degrees C. Thank heavens for the new Milton velodrome; I've been able to take in a few of the Drop In lapping sessions since getting certified, and it is a thrill & a half. This week our 6:30am morning ride was spiced up with the local media interviewing some Canadian cycling royalty, as Olympic medalists Steve Bauer and Curt Harnett took many journalists around the boards for a taste of the thrills in store.
I'm beginning to think we can tone down the publicity for a while: time slots are filling so fast that pretty much every session is sold out as soon as it goes online. Good problem to have, I suppose!
As Harnett waxes on for the cameras, I'm either pulling away or about to be lapped...