Gladys, meanwhile, was up ahead with Alison -- and they were mostly out of view the entire way.
Five miles into the run, we come to a field through which dogs are generally allowed to run free. By then, Mark was running (slowly) again, but when he unclipped my leash, I didn't wait. I ran straight up the path after the fast group -- that is, naturally, where I belong!
Ali and Gladys were already home, so I sauntered right in the open door. Ali saw me all alone and assumed Mark had died on the trail or roadside -- probably falling victim to some intestinal virus. She immediately sent searchers and got on her bike to find him herself. Minutes later, he came jogging up the driveway. "Has anyone seen Oscar?" he said.
Alison called off the search, and everyone was relieved. And that, readers, is why you should never leave your wingman.
