Well we’ve got two months of 2011 under our belt now. If you’re like me you might have had a few New Year’s resolutions that have either gone the way of the dinosaur or perhaps are still going strong. A lot of my good intentions focused on personal health. Not like I’m a total train wreck but this waist line and blood sugar levels aren’t going to fix themselves.

I’ve done the gym membership in the past. While my commitment starts out strong in January, by April 1^st I’m the fool who sitting on his backside while a faceless exercise conglomerate collects my monthly bank authorized drafts.  And yes, I can terminate my membership at any time but there’s that lingering belief my inspiration will return. Round about Labor Day all hope is lost and I officially call it quits.

This year I decided to return to my long suspended habit of walking the dogs. Somehow I convinced myself that once the big dogs, Hannah and Whitney, were gone the little guy, Max, would do fine running around his yard. We even adopted another small dog, Mr. Otis, as his companion to spur him on. Unfortunately nobody explained it to Mr. Otis who would much rather hide under the pillows all day then chase another K-9 around the rhododendrons. I still thought that would all change when Trixie joined the clan in 2009. Her Poodle energy worked while the sun was shining but not so much when it rained. And as everyone knows, it rains a lot here.
   

Anyway I have been chartered with completing 3 walks per week around our Shoreline
neighborhood – a reasonable goal. Max and I head out alone first. He injured his back leg in December so the pace is not so demanding. It was also the extra guilt I needed to get me off the couch and on the sidewalk. Since he used to walk with the old girls he fell right into step and seems to really enjoy the outings. Once he’s back inside, it’s Trixie and Mr. Otis’ turns. They get a longer jaunt at a quicker pace. Figured it would help burn off the extra energy these two part Terriers possess. Doesn’t make a bit of difference however I have learned that Mr. Otis is afraid of rain.

So far we’ve got 7 weeks under our belt (pun intended) and we’re going strong. With any luck Max’s leg will mend enough that the two groups will merge soon. Who knows maybe Mr. Otis will overcome his Ombrophobia. And while I haven’t seen a downward trend on the bathroom scale I at least lost some of the guilty conscience. Now if I could only stop eating the Girl Scout cookies .