The Dangers of Walking

Yesterday was a BIG DAY. Both Button and I reached  important landmarks.

Mine was I finally got to a half mile on the treadmill. Given that right before Halloween I fell (my own stupid fault) and managed to tear the tendons and ligaments in both knees, this feels like a really BIG DEAL to me.

I am ignoring the fact that in my young adulthood I used to jog 3 and ½ miles a day. Which meant getting up at 5 a.m., going out in the suburban New Jersey neighborhood I lived in – where absolutely NO ONE walked anywhere — in fact when we were house-hunting in that area, one of the realtors looked out a window once and said, “OMG it’s ‘The Walker!’ That woman WALKS everywhere!” which clued us into what kind of place we were considering.

Not so bad as Beverly Hills, which I used to walk through on trips to L.A. and generally was followed by a police car, always about a block away. Honest. We were out there on business a lot in the late 1980s and the police only stopped following me, once I started walking with my two little poodles, (we did travel with them) which, I think, put me in the safe category of dog walker. Especially since one of them would NOT walk more than a block. She couldn’t see the point. So I was carrying a small white poodle and walking a small black poodle and absolutely looked harmless. The only other people who were not followed in Beverly Hills were women in maids’ uniforms. As long as they were headed towards  a bus stop.

Where was I? Oh, yes, so I would get up at 5 in the morning, do my jog, come back, dress for work, catch the train to Hoboken, the PATH to 34th Street, and walk up to 57th, where my office was.

But that was then. Since my fall, I have edged my way forward with a variety of goals. Being able to go downstairs in a normal manner, albeit a tad slowly, was a major one. Getting on the treadmill was a biggy. And yesterday, making it to a half mile, was huge. Of course it took me about 4 hours (more or less). But I did it.

Button’s landmark was equally impressive. She has gone back to being a poodle and is once again picky about her food. While she and Luka were ill for those 8 horrible weeks, they dined on chicken and rice and yoghurt. But since getting FINALLY healthy, they have been having kibbles.

Luka, accessing her inner Lab, eats in about 2 minutes flat. Button however has been recovering her attitude. “Kibble,” she says. “I am a POODLE. I don’t eat JUST kibble.”

So she takes two or three kibbles in her mouth, walks to a rug in the living room, eats each one individually; looks out the window; looks at Luka who is saying “Can I have your kibble? Huh? Can I? Can I? Huh? Can I?”; looks at me to see if I have somehow gotten smart enough to give her something worth eating; sighs; looks at Lauren to see if SHE is going to crack and throw in some chicken; sighs; and takes two or three more kibbles to the living room rug.

It’s good to have her back to normal!