USA, lange Spaziergänge mit meinem Ex-Racer Olivia

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From www.sfgate.com

Long walks with Olivia, my ex-racer greyhound

Eileen Mitchell

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

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Eileen Mitchell

Olivia, a 4-year-old ex-racer greyhound, is not only striking for her red
brindle coat, but also for her love of long walks, such as here on the Iron
Horse Trail.

Loving dogs aside, back in 2002 another compelling reason for getting a dog
was my fondness for long, brisk, hearty walks. Not jogging. Not bicycling or
exercising or huffing and puffing. Just walking. Inhaling the fresh air,
admiring the scenery and stretching my legs. With that in mind, what better
companion than a dog? Better yet, an ex-racer greyhound?

Or so I thought. That's why, soon after adopting Elvis, I took him to Dr.
Arnott, convinced that there was something wrong with my new boy. After all,
what kind of greyhound didn't like long walks?

Uh, that would be Elvis. There wasn't anything wrong, I learned. It's just
that his La-Z-Dog recliner was so much more alluring. "You've got yourself a
lazy greyhound," I remember Dr. Arnott chuckling. A little-known trait that
I discovered is actually quite typical of the breed.

Ah, but my new ex-racer greyhound, Olivia, is anything but typical. Just 4
years old, my little tiger, nicknamed for her striking red brindle coat, is
a 70-pound mass of youthful energy. From her quivering upright ears that act
as canine radar, to her Downward Dog yoga stance, with her long skinny tail
slicing through the air, she's forever signaling that she's eager to play.
Maybe a nice game of fetch? How about tug-of-war? Wanna chase me? Or say,
here's an idea: How about another walk?

My initial clue that I'd met my match was after our first long hike, a
9-miler at Inspiration Point in Tilden Park. Three hours later, I was ready
to go home, kick off my boots, pour myself a glass of wine and enjoy my DVD
of "Mildred Pierce."

Not so, Olivia. "Nice warm-up, wimp," her face said. "When does the walk
begin?" Seriously, dog?

Olivia never tires of walks, words I once thought myself incapable of
uttering. Striding obediently by my side, she's in obvious awe of this new
world she's been plunged into. The birds in the sky, the squirrels in the
trees, other dogs, floating clouds, motorcycles, rain. Her curiosity about
everything is apparent through her perpetually cocked head.

And so, every day after work, come rain or shine, I walk Olivia. We usually
stay in the hood, but on weekends we'll hop in my CRV and explore a new
park, neighborhood or trail. Sometimes I invite friends to join us, but it's
usually just me and my little tiger. We walk and walk, my pedometer clocking
1 mile, 2, 4, 6.

Some days, though, I'm just not in the mood. Maybe work was crazy or my
hour-long commute was more jam-packed than usual. All I want to do is take
Olivia for a brief stroll, then crash on the sofa and watch "Jeopardy."
"What is a couch potato, Alex?"

But then, I look at my sweet girl's eager face shining up at me, positively
giddy at the prospect of - oh glory be - a walk! And I think of this bundle
of energy spending the first four years of her life at a racetrack, living
in a shed and crated for up to 22 hours at a time, with just enough room to
stand up and turn around. No birds in the sky, squirrels in the trees,
floating clouds or other breeds. No companionship, treats, attention or
affection. My heart melts.

And we walk.

E-mail Pet Tales at home@sfchronicle.com. Want more pet and people tales? Go
to www.eileenmitchell.blogspot.com.