“Wherever I go, he goes. My buddy (my buddy). My buddy and meeeeee.” Anyone else remember that commercial? Well, it gets stuck in my head when I think about my running buddy, Amos Moses.
How perfect is it that a couple of good running friends and I found him by a dumpster at the local park during a long run? We took turns carrying him home for 2 miles. Visions of raising this puppy to be my little wonder dog played through my mind, knowing that my friends could not keep him while living in the university dorms. I had a science nerd named picked out for him. After going through the logical list (Mendel, Darwin, Edison, Newton, Einstein), I had decided on Watson. Imagine my surprise when I got home with an adorable puppy and my husband did not want to keep him. The fact that he had not bonded with the puppy over a 2 mile walk didn’t cross my mind.
While my husband looked for a good home for the pup (aka Watson), I snuggled and spoiled him. After a week, I could not give this puppy up. I had a plan. On my adjunct professor/part-time barista salary, I took the pup in for all of his shots, etc. I also gave up on making his name a tribute to science, which was an ill thought out plan anyhow, given his personality. Instead, I opted for a name my husband would dig. If you’re married to a music loving, guitar playing, Jerry Reed junkie, you really can’t go wrong naming a stray hound Amos Moses. (It also doesn’t hurt to sit with a puppy in your lap and beg WITH REAL TEARS to keep him.) They bonded.
We learned really quickly that Amos is a bit crazy. He would launch himself off our back porch and run circles in the yard. He jumped high and far enough to sprain his front leg soon after we found him. He liked to pounce grass clumps after we mowed and run around in circles through the house bouncing off furniture. Like a good hound dog, he buried his poop the few times he used the bathroom in his crate before being potty trained. Like a bad hound he tore through all of his stuff and most of our toilet paper.
That crazy energy is just part of the reason you can tell he was born to run. He will let you know if he wants to run or not with an adorable tilt of his head. His longest run to date is 10 miles. He didn’t want to run the day after that one, even though he ran up and down the stairs enough the next day to equal at least 2 miles. He and I placed 2nd at a 3K dog jog averaging ~6:30 pace with a water stop. I was very proud of him after that. Let’s be realistic though, he could out run me any day of the week. But, for now anyway, he is happy to run alongside my husband or I…especially if he gets to chase squirrels at the end of a run. When it comes to squirrels, Amos means business.