Battle of the Bulges

Literally, I sit here gasping for breath wondering what possessed me to ask my neighbor if she had a pump. Your inquiring mind may wish to know what that pump was for so I will tell you. My bike. Well actually Dasha’s bike. Dasha is a Russian that lived with me as part of the “program”. One of her really big wants was a bike to ride in the US. So for her birthday, I, well we since most of the other girls chipped in, bought her one. When she left for Mothah Rushah this past September, she did not take it with her. So I have a new bike! Which leads me to my insanity.

I decided that in all of my learnings from the Dog Whisperer, that Polly may enjoy a good bike ride. Well that’s me riding, her running. Let me tell you, it’s not as easy as Cesar Millan makes it look. Damn him. Polly about pulled my arm out of the socket 10 times. She full on stopped and almost made me flip over the handle bars. And stopping.. what’s that?? I swear I was FLYING I was going so fast and then when I went to apply the trusty brakes… I had to squeeze like I was having the worst contraction or something (I’ve never had babies but I’ve had bad cramps).

So now, here I sit, sweating, panting, wondering… and we were only out for 5 minutes!!

ps. There was a moment where Polly and I were in sync and she was panting and running along and having fun. Hopefully those moments with practice will get more and more frequent.