Happy Holidays!

I hope everyone is enjoying my favorite season -- winter! It's been an incredible week, with a winter solstice bonfire in Smugglers' Notch (here's a shout out to my buddy Berkeley and my new dog-friend Moxie), an awesome hike in the Bahrenburg woods during the 2010 Boot League tradition, and a VERY exciting visit from my old pal Santa.

So Happy Holidays everyone, and get ready for the best winter ever!

Dear Oscar, Why haven't you posted in two months? And, while you're answering that, why hasn't your human posted either? -- Lost Without Your Wisdom

Dear Lost, I don't know what these people have been doing, but it certainly isn't blogging! And I don't know who picked out those sunglasses, but I hope they didn't pay more than a couple dollars (or pesos).

But seriously, my human calls himself a writer, and he has his own blog (click here to see the blog). And you're right, not a single post in two months! What is up with that? Here he is -- a professional writer, published in magazines and newspapers all over the country. But not a post since early October. Pathetic, if you ask me.

What, you say? Why haven't I posted in the same amount of time? People, please. I am a dog, for goodness sakes! A labrador retriever! What did you expect? Aren't you just impressed that I taught myself to log onto a computer and type?

For those of you that do follow my running log, I did run in the months of November and December -- a fair amount, in fact. I will try to get those distances up there this week. And, fine, I'll get some posts up too. But remember, it's the rare dog that writes. If anyone should be referred to as "slacking" for the lack of recent posts on his blog, it's not me. It's my human.

Dear Oscar, Thanks for the insightful post about always being ready to go. I think Woody Allen said "90 percent of success is showing up." Hope you

can come over soon, except my human says I can't chase you because of my sore wrist. Your friend, Gus


Dear Gus,

What is it with humans? Do they think we want to sit around on our rear ends just because of a little boo-boo? One time I stepped on a thorn, and it got infected. The vet and my people kept saying, "Rest, Oscar, rest!" Rest? All I wanted to do was play, even though I only had three good legs. There is, however, another way for you to spin this... You know what really helps dogs heal? Yep, that's right: dog treats. Lots of dog treats. You can tell your human I said so.

Thanks for the feedback about the post. Just a clarification: Allen didn't place that much emphasis on showing up; he actually said only 80 percent, not 90. He also said he's not trying to achieve immortality through his work (rather, he is trying to achieve it by "not dying"); he referred to himself as "at two with Nature"; and he said that money is better than poverty -- but only for financial reasons.

Hope your wrist feels better soon; I can't wait to go running around the yard! Best, Oscar

Downtown Dog Rescue

Anyone in downtown Burlington on Sunday saw me racing in the city's prestigious Downtown 10K. Yes, that's right -- me... racing in an official, sanctioned event!

There are two reasons why you are unlikely to see me in events like this. For one, often dogs aren't allowed. Even if they are, there is great potential for entanglements and mishaps when you combine lots of people, a yellow dog, and a leash all in one place. Reason number two is that my human seems to think he races faster without me.

Well, I proved everyone wrong on both counts. First off, I was perfectly behaved, particularly at the start of the race. And I ran fast for pretty much the whole race -- which I ran in about 43 minutes: under a 7-minute-per-mile pace! I will note that I said "pretty much the whole race." That is because I did make one pee stop and one sniff stop at bushes. I also stopped twice to slurp water in puddles, and, on two occasions, I tugged my human strongly in the direction of squirrels.

And there was one other delay. At the intersection of North Avenue and Haswell Street, a brown puppy -- I assume a spectator -- got over-excited, and decided to join me in the race. His legs were going a mile a minute (they were about a fifth the length of mine, and he swerved right into the street and into traffic. I didn't catch his name, but I tell you what: that puppy would surely have been hit out there. Although we were competing, my human and I looked both ways, scooped up the puppy (who by this time was on his back totally freaked) and returned to the sidewalk.

Some kids walked towards us, until my human yelled for them to hurry up. (We were on the clock, you know?) He started to tell them to watch their dog more closely, but the girl said it wasn't her dog. "Well, someone should watch him!" Mark said, and turned back to the task at hand.

I am a little dismayed that someone wasn't paying closer attention to such a small puppy. But I hope all goes well and that he grows up to be a great runner... just like me.

State of Readiness

I am always ready. For example, this morning I was sound asleep. Then my humans got up and the next thing you know, we were running 6 miles! And who was right there, leading the way? That's right, me. And on another day, I'll be sleeping and next thing you know they'll rouse me and shortly thereafter, we'll be hiking a mountain someplace. And is there any hesitation on my part? Any "Oh, not today, I'm too tired?" I think not!

Yesterday I was napping on my couch (notice the possessive "my" and not the article "the"? That's because, yes, the furniture here belongs to me.) Also, do you notice the common thread of me napping or sleeping leading up to all my adventures? That's because I always want to be well-rested; I'll never turn down the opportunity for a good nap (or run or snack or meal or belly-rub). Anyway, I was napping on the couch, when my human stood. You better believe I snapped to! Next thing you know, he was on his bike and I was running alongside... all the way down to the river! What a time!

Moral of the story: always be ready. Even if you don't feel like doing something, do it anyway. Take it from a yellow dog: you'll be glad you did.

Litter Bugs

I do a lot of running on beautiful, dirt roads in my town. And I'm not going to lie; when I see a pile of trash on the side of the road, I am the first to check it out. This morning, for example, I was able to root through a Subway bag that someone tossed out their car window (got the last couple bites of a moldy turkey sandwich), lick the remains of a McDonald's take-out dinner, and eat two pizza crusts. Not bad for a morning run!

Still, I must say, there's something not right -- even to me -- with this picture. I have to wonder who is trashing their own planet like this? Don't get me wrong, I love the treats. But do these people not have trash cans? Are they just lazy? Who throws litter out their car windows in 2010? Apparently lots of people.

For my part, I just sort of scratch my head. My human, on the other hand, is more adamant. Here's what he says about it (and this is a quote from him -- a pup like me would never use this sort of language): "Hey litter bugs! Throw your !@#$%^ trash in a #$%^& garbage can!"

My snacks this morning were pretty tasty. But I guess everyone is entitled to his or her own opinion.

Oscar, Which do you prefer... running or hiking? Just curious, Foot Traveler

Dear Traveler,

(Click on photos to enlarge)

This is a difficult question. Because I like both pursuits so much! You will notice, both running and hiking, the huge grin on my face. I'm not faking it; these are two activities that I love.

Take hiking. There I am, out in the woods, climbing mountains, scrambling over rocks. Unless we are up near a summit and there is fragile vegetation or the like, I am off the leash, prancing around, greeting other hikers, sniffing the smells, and wagging my tail. I stay mostly on the trail, but I'm free to wander wherever I want. So great!

Then there's running. How can you beat jogging along next to my people, out in the fresh air, along dirt roads, streets, trails, whatever? Sometimes, if it is a trail, I run off-leash, but I have to hand it to those people: they don't give a dog much time to be distracted. If you don't keep at it, they'll leave you behind. It's great fun.

On my running log, I do list the mileages of all my runs. I don't list nearly all the hikes, because we do so many. I try to note the most significant ones though.

But back to your question, the answer is yes. I love hiking and running. Equally. I'm an outdoor dog, and those are two very worthy outdoor pursuits.

Thanks for the question!
Oscar

Oscar, When you go swimming, why do you shake yourself dry when you're still in the water? -- Swim Coach

Dear Coach,

When I get to go swimming, it is a special occasion. Not because I don't go swimming much; on the contrary, my humans have brought me to a lake or river every day this summer. Rather, it's because I get excited every time I get to swim, even though I get to swim daily! It's just the best, you know?

So anyway, there I am in the water. And, as everyone with head-to-toe fur knows, half the fun of swimming is the shake-the-water-off-your-fur as soon as you get out! Only in my case, I'm so excited about the swim and about the shake, that sometimes I forget to get out of the water before I shake!

See? Swimming is an exciting activity!

Hope that answers your question. Your friend, Oscar

Dear Oscar, Is it me or do you seem sun-tanned? And do dogs need to worry about the sun’s ultra-violet rays? -- An SPF-wearing admirer

Dear SPF,

I honestly don’t know, do you think I’m tan?

What I do know is that I have been living the life up here at the Aiken family camp on Lake Champlain. Hanging out all day on the deck, except when I get a little warm, then I amble down to the water and cool the old dog-temp back down. It’s great!

Although our extended time here is just about over, it is just refreshing to spend time next to the lake. Take Scout the cat, for example. At 14 years-old, he takes it easy ordinarily, often spending whole days in the basement. Up here, though, he’s like a cat who has recharged and rejuvenated himself by the sea! Socializing, mingling, wandering, napping, lazing right out in the open… he is rivaling me for out-and-out gregariousness.

Okay, that may be an exaggeration; I guess I win the gregarious department. As for your question, I have never concerned myself about too much sun. I mean, heck, I don't even own sunglasses! That said, I do seek shade and shelter on hot days. But that is probably more the result of the real issue: overheating. That’s something a dog needs to stay on top of, especially a runner like me. We generally do all of our summer running in the morning and we follow up with plenty of swimming.

And, take it from me, if you’re going to be running in the summertime, here at Camp is the place to do it.

Your friend, Oscar

Time Off For Good Behavior

Thomas Jefferson and the Founding Fathers could not have imagined a more perfect weekend for the 4th of July. Weather-wise, it was just perfect. Clear, sunny, hot. Perfect for sitting next to a lake, sipping cold drinks (or if you're me, slurping then slobbering them), and submerging yourself in the water every little while just to cool down.

I mean, we did a little more than just that. For example, on July 3rd, we hiked up Vermont's highest peak by sunset to watch 20 fireworks displays. They were all around us, and I somehow felt glad to be an American dog as I saw fireworks being shot off in Vermont, New Hampshire, and New York.

The next morning, we headed up to Camp in North Hero. But not before stopping in South Hero to run 12 miles (Ali and me -- 16 if you're crazy, I mean, Mark). Thus began the lake-dipping that would continue for the rest of the weekend.

Another thing that many onlookers noticed and commented on was my behavior this weekend. I mean, they discuss it right in front of me like I'm not there. Do they think I can't hear? Anyway, my parents and grandparents have barricades on the deck of the Camp designed to keep me from running off. Notwithstanding the fact that, if I wanted, I could go over or through the barricades or just knock them over, for the most part, they didn't even set them up this weekend. I never ventured across the street to that barn where the owner keeps his cat food uncovered. I came every time when called. I didn't jump on anyone that was elderly or carrying a baby. I was really good!

Listen, I don't want to go setting any bars overly high. Don't get your expectations up. I'll run off in a second if I feel like it.

Just telling it like it is. Happy July everyone!

Nice Death Racers

I attended today's Death Race in Pittsfield, Vermont as a spectator. This event is the only one of its kind: designed to push people to their mental, physical, and psychological limits. I have to say, however, that Race participants maintained their composure incredibly well in the midst of the physically grueling, mentally frustrating, sleep-deprived event. For example, picture this: you get no sleep the night before, because the 10pm pre-race "meeting" lasts 12 hours and has you and your fellow competitors hauling gravel and bridges in order to maintain the trail over which you'd eventually run back-and-forth at least four times during the race. You're literally pulling yourself on your stomach through mud and muck under barbed wire and dragging your 50-pound backpack (filled with such required "equipment" as $50 in pennies and 10 pounds of onions) and a post-hole digger. A yellow dog (me!) approaches you, sticks his nose right in your face, and licks you. Do you freak out? Throw a tantrum? Holler at someone to get this #@%^&*! mutt away from you? Most mortals would. The Death Racers didn't. They reached through the barbed wire, careful not to add to the cuts already covering their bodies, pet me on the nose, and -- get this -- smiled. Amazing!

The most notable example of cruel mind games and graceful composure came after Neil Preston finished his wood-splitting task. Each competitor who deciphered the email sent in Greek (as in, the language) to all competitors advising them to bring an axe to the event had to split 25 to 30 green hardwood rounds (those less fortunate who didn't get the email had to cart countless loads of sheep manure from a stable to a distant manure pile). Neil was gathering himself before stacking his split wood and moving onto the next stage with a turkey sandwich and a Gatorade. I noticed half of his sandwich within reach and inhaled it in a single gulp. It happened so fast, I didn't even taste it going down (it looked good...). Neil had been racing for 16 hours and probably had at least 10 to go. "That half had too much mayonase anyway," was all he said when he realized what I had done.

My owner departed the Race scene shortly after this incident. Sleep deprivation, exhaustion, axes and other sharp tools... I think he read the writing on the walls. Racers (and race organizers, who had been awake as long as the racers) were getting punchy and annoyed, and since I didn't seem too apologetic, he got us out of there. I don't know why; that was a good sandwich.

Congratulations to all Death Racers -- even those who dropped out. That race is one of a kind -- as are its participants. And Neil... anytime you get overloaded with mayo in the future, just give me a call.

Dear Oscar, Do you have any special plans now that summer has officially begun? Yours truly, Summer-lover

Dear Summer-Lover, Thanks for pointing out this very important holiday: the first day of summer!

And thank you for asking about my summer plans, because it is shaping up to be a busy -- and fun -- one. Specifically, my plans are as follows: swimming, running, sleeping, eating, canoeing, boating, hanging around, and playing. Yep, that about covers it.

Happy summer everyone!

Oscar

Rookie Sensation

In the first 5K of his running career, Berkeley the beagle-lab mix pulled off an unbelievable 4th-place finish. The race was Phoebe's Phabulous Phive K in Williston, benefitting the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Nobody was sure how the Berk-meister was going to do, but he just trotted right along next to me! He stopped to inspect three or four culverts along the way (even I stopped at the last one, in which we both took brief but refreshing dips -- at which point the eventual second-place finisher passed us) and he also took a water at the one water station on the course.

We most certainly would have tied for third place had Berkeley not decided to stop down the stretch to sniff a spectating dachsund. All the same, it was an amazing race with an incredible performance by a first-time finisher. (photo: the 1980 NBA Rookie of the Year)

Dear Oscar, Who is the dog I always see you playing with these days? Regards, Dog-Watcher

Dear Watcher, Good times are here in Richmond. That's right -- I have a friend over! Berkeley, the lab/beagle mix is here for two weeks! As far as I'm concerned, he can stay as long as he wants (I haven't run this by my humans, but when do I ever run anything past them?)

Berkeley comes with me on all walks to the river (although he didn't join me swimming all the way across yesterday -- see photo below), he's available to romp and generally create dog-ruckus anytime, and I even slept on his dog-bed for awhile last night! One thing I noticed about Berkeley when he first arrived was that he is sort of a finicky eater; unlike me, he takes his time with his food. While he has gotten much more decisive about his eating habits since then, he still isn't as fast as me. I think it's unfair that, after I eat my almost-2 cups of food, I have to watch him while he finishes his 1 cup. Also, he hasn't had as much extensive running experience as me, but he still has stamina! Yesterday, we took him on our 5-miler. We went back and forth on our road so that we could bring him home if he showed any signs of exhaustion or lameness. But he kept right up no problem, and then we romped some more when we got home!

This is the best addition to our household since Waffle the cat!
Oscar

The Case of the Empty

There is a mystery here in Richmond. The empty beer can in the accompanying photo was found on the living room floor. Study the photo closely and tell me what seems odd. That's right, folks; it is unopened. How, then, were its contents removed? Well, study closer. That's right; there is a small puncture just under the rim of the can.

Here in Richmond, sleuths working on the case have determined that whoever removed the contents of this beer can was highly intelligent -- or at least had a strong understanding of physics. That's because of what you can't see in the photo: there is another puncture hole identical to the one in the photo, but on the opposite side of the can. Clearly, whoever removed the contents knew that beer pours more smoothly and quickly with an air release.

Who could have done it? The full beer was apparently left on the table in the living room. Who has an opener that small? And what became of the beer? There was no sign of it anywhere.

If anyone has any information on the beer that was removed from this can, please (burp) let me know.

Oscar

Can Go Fast

I have heard Mark say he doesn't like to run with me when he is in serious marathon-training mode. Something about my running style being too inconsistent, too stop-and-go, too slow. Well, first off, let me say that if he wants to "seriously" train for anything, he may want to lay off the Mountain Dew and heavy snacking. There, I said it.

However, I will also admit that there's some truth to what he says. But if he is honest, I'm sure he would have to admit that a run with me is far more interesting than a run without me. Am I inconsistent? Do I stop and go? Do I run all the time at his marathon pace? Yes, yes, and sometimes, respectively! I mean, seriously, why would I want to just go and go without stopping? Booorrring!

However, let the record show, that I can be a marathon-training dog. Today, for example, I went on a 6-miler with Mark. Let me take you through the run mile-by-mile.

Mile 1 -- 8:57 pace. Warm-up. Stopped to pee once, poop once, and sniff grass once.

Mile 2 -- 9:40 pace. Huge hill. Was a bit distracted. Mark muttered something about should have left dog at home.

Mile 3 -- 7:37 pace. Got focused. Still hilly. Kind of liked going fast.

Mile 4 -- 7:27 pace. Still hilly. Went even faster. No stops.

Mile 5 -- My favorite mile, because Mark took me off the leash so I could run in the Johnny Brook fields! Mark ran a 7:11 pace this mile, but I left him in the dust. If I had to guess, I would say I ran a 5:15 pace to the brook, swam a little, jumped out, sprinted around (probably an extra half-mile), and stood there waiting for him at the bridge over the brook. That's right; I was waiting for him.

Mile 6 -- 8:07 pace. Hills. And I thought he needed a cool-down.

So... can I run fast enough? I think yes.

Crazy Runners

There I was, running on the Burlington Bike Path, right next to Lake Champlain. It was raining, snowing, and blowing like crazy -- what Winnie the Pooh would have called extremely blustery. Suddenly, there was no protection; we were right on the water. Waves were crashing into the seawall below us, spray was everywhere (see photo by Jan Leja). It was like being inside an automatic carwash... and I was the car!

Readers of this blog know how I feel about baths. That's right; I'm not a fan. So I am still confused as to how exactly I found myself in that situation.

Here's what I do know. A few weeks ago, it was 70 degrees and clear. Slightly warm by April standards, but we'll take it. Since then, we have had two significant snowfalls. That first one caught me a little off-guard; you see, a yellow dog like me lives completely in the here-and-now. A few weeks of springtime, and I pretty much forget what snow is! So, during that first April snowfall, I jumped out the front door and stopped short. I stood there all confused for a moment, before jumping around, rolling, and playing like a puppy! Because snow rules! I was, I must say, a little surprised that Mark and I didn't hike and ski at Stowe. But he's in full marathon-cramming mode right now. So did we ski? No. Did we go for a 4-mile run in snow that was blowing sideways? Yes.

But the warm weather returned... until today which, as I said, is snowy again. It's May 9th! And every year three Sundays before the Vermont City Marathon, the entire Run with Jan group gets together in Burlington and runs 20 miles of the 26.2-mile VCM course. Usually I get left behind because both my owners, avid marathoners usually run all 20 and I generally am not invited on runs of over 13 miles. Well, Ali just ran a marathon last weekend (amazing job, by the way, and I will take partial credit as her training partner) and only ran 10 today. So who got to come along? That's right, yours truly!

So that, I suppose, is how I found myself in the dogwash that is the Burlington Bike Path. I will mention that, otherwise, it was a great group run; super people, all running together, all bundled up, most doing high mileage... very unique to have this many people all deranged enough to go running in conditions like this!

Running along that stretch of the Bike Path was scary. I hugged the fence away from the waves as close as I could, put my tail and head down, and sort of jogged through. I am going to guess that Alison got more soaked than she would have if I hadn't been slowing her down, but I didn't know what to do! What are these crazy runners thinking? Most normal people were home watching movies. But we were out running in all sorts of weather! Who are these people?

Casino Night!

It's the event everyone is talking about: Alison Aiken's final fundraiser to benefit the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. Here's the deal:

As many readers of this blog (and Alison's fans) already know, Alison has spent the last several months training like a mad-woman for an Olympic distance triathlon -- the Mooseman -- to be held in Bristol, NH in June. She is participating with Team in Training and has pledged to raise $2800 in support of the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. While most mortals spent the winter huddled around heaters and woodstoves, Alison has been out getting herself in killer shape and at the same time raising money for cancer research, which, as we all know, continues to claim and affect lives every day. Thank goodness some people like Alison and her TnT teammates are out there doing something about it... thanks to her hard work and the generosity of many people who have already donated, she has raised $1800 so far. Wow.

As a final push to reach her fundraising goal, Alison has announced "Casino Night" at Casa Aiken on Friday, May 21 at 6pm. Tickets are $20. Tickets are good for entry, refreshments, and -- most importantly -- CHIPS! People will furiously participate in different card and dice games -- or, for those who don't like cards or dice -- ping pong! At the end of the evening, an accounting will take place. Those with the most chips at the end win crazy prizes from places like Evolution Physical Therapy and Yoga, PetraCliffs Climbing Center, and many more.

I know what you are thinking. You are asking "How do I get a ticket!" Here's how:
1) Post a comment on this blog or email Alison regarding how many tickets you need.
2) Click here for Alison's TnT fundraising website to purchase your tickets -- $20 per ticket.
3) Tell all your friends!
4) Pick up your tickets, come to Casino Night, retrieve your chips, and start winning!

For now, join the rest of the world in wondering about the big questions: Will Alison pull out her Las Vegas showgirl outfit for the night? Will pit boss Mark rule the tables with an iron fist? Will Oscar the dog leave the refreshments alone? And, of course, the biggest question of all: who will be the big winner???

Contact Alison for questions about Casino Night!

A Good Buddy

Hydrating at the summit of Camel's Hump
Hold everything. I need to say a few words about my good buddy Rufus. This dog had it all. Acres and acres of woods to run through. Pheasants hiding in cornfields. Turkeys in rolling hayfields. A human buddy who loved nothing more than taking him on hikes -- with pockets full of dog cookies. Rufus showed up 14 years ago, a Brittany Spaniel puppy, and he was a great friend to his people from the minute he stepped foot in the door.

Rufus has been a great friend and mentor to me my entire life. I hope that, in my youthful enthusiasm, I wasn't too in-his-face at times. If yes, he was far too considerate to ever mention it. Anyway, he joined me a couple years ago -- as a 12-year-old Brittany -- on a hike to the top of Camel's Hump. There was a whole group of really special friends and family who made the hike that day, a beautiful and crisp September day -- the kind that make you realize that summer is fading and another Vermont winter is on its way, even if a couple months off. I have to tell you, I am really glad that Rufus made the hike that day. We had such a great time! And despite his advancing age even back then, not once did I worry about him scrambling over rocks or tiring out. (If anything, it was his human that I was watching!)

Rufus was always light-footed, light-hearted, and always a great buddy. Once in awhile, there are dogs who -- just by being born -- make the world a better place. Rufus was definitely one of them.

We'll miss you, Rufus. Thanks for being our buddy.

Dear Oscar, Congratulations on your selection as Vermont Sports Magazine's "Wagger Athlete of the month." Will your fame affect your life? -- A Fan

Dear Fan, Thanks for reading the magazine -- it was a fine piece of reporting (with a captivating subject, if I do say myself). Click here to read the interview online. Also, don't miss the informative article by my human in the same issue (the annual April "dog" issue) about running with your dog.

As for how the fame will affect my life, it shouldn't -- except for the usual obligatory phone interviews and tour of the national talk show circuit. Maybe some cameo appearances in some TV sitcoms, you know the sort of thing. Otherwise, I'll be running, hiking, and playing just like usual.

Photo: here I am waiting for my humans on a hike last weekend. Photo courtesy of Ruth!

Your friend, Oscar

Weight Loss

Well, it's official. At my vet appointment last week, the backup vet (Dr. Dan, my usual vet, had the day off) proclaimed that I was "overweight."

My human was aghast. "Overweight?" he said. "Do you realize how far this dog runs?" She didn't, but it didn't matter. She pointed to my sides, where my ribs were not visible. One should, she explained, be able to feel a dog's ribs easily when one rubs a dog's sides. My ribs were in there, but you really had to press to feel them.

I didn't mind all the rubbing, but I did mind what came next. "Are we over-feeding him?" my human asked.

Whoa there, buddy! Let's not get carried away! We are talking about winter fat; it will disappear after about 2 weeks of spring-time activity. It's like I've been saying all along: it's not about feeding the dog less. It's about feeding him more, and then letting him run around more.

"Less" is not the answer. "More" is!

A Tale of Two Baths

Okay, I'd like to vent a little something that has been frustrating me lately. Two times in the last three weeks-- count them, twice! -- when I have returned to the house after little adventures in the woods behind our house, my humans have greeted me by smelling me and immediately forcing me to take a (gasp) sponge bath. The humiliation! The shame!

The good news in this story is, with the great maturity I have demonstrated in this third year of my existence, they do let me cruise around a little bit as long as I wear a collar with their contact information and my bell (see photo). As long as I return within what they consider a reasonable amount of time (and believe me, in their minds "reasonable" means "brief"), they're fine.

Again, that's the good news. Meanwhile, back to the baths. Yes, prior to both, I did roll in something dead. And so what if I did? Is a little rotten raccoon so bad? They just don't get it, you know? Read my lips: I... don't... mind... smelling... like... carrion!

Believe me, I'd rather smell like dead coyote than be subjected to a bath. And, if you don't mind me saying, the fresh sheets on their (read: "my") bed could certainly use a little deadening up. Sheesh. What does a dog have to do to get through to people? Helloooo... I do not like your baths, okay? Brother!

Dear Oscar, I noticed that you recently sponsored your red-headed human's...

... fund-raising triathlon in the amount of $10. I was wondering where you got the money and why you only donated $10? Also, I noticed that one of the cats you live with donated too. Where did he get the cash, and why didn't the other cat donate as well? This is an extremely important cause, you know. -- A Fan in Montana


Dear Fan,

You are right; supporting cancer research and the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society IS an important cause, which is why, of course, I donated. Ali has been training for months with a team of fund-raising athletes for the Mooseman Triathlon in New Hampshire. To donate, click here.

As for where I get my money, this is obvious: I steal it from my humans. Like their internet and DSL service, I take it when they aren't watching. Although I have never asked him, I believe Scout, who also donated, gets his money the same way. Likewise, I am unsure of where Waffle gets his money, but I do know where he spends all of it: on booze.

Looking forward to seeing everyone's names up there with mine on Alison's fund-raising website!

Oscar

GOOD LUCK ALISON!

Have a great race!

Your training partner, Oscar

Dear Oscar, I love to run too, but I am rather new to the concept of a leash since I was homeless for most of my life (I'm 11 months old)...

...until I found my new family about a month and a half ago. My mom takes me walking daily and to the dog park almost daily. She likes to run and has taken me on jogs a few times. I run at a good speed with her, but I zig zag a lot and want to stop and sniff a lot which drives her nuts. She found this new contraption called a Halti which helps us walk together a lot better. But she's not sure if it would be nice for me if I wear it when we go running. Do you think it would impede my panting if I wore it running? Thanks for your expert opinion! -- Ruby (part whippet and part beagle)

Dear Ruby, First off, congrats on finding your new family. That is an exciting development! Secondly, it's great that your human takes you on walks and to the dog park so frequently. In a short span of time, you have trained her well -- nice work!

The running is also great. And, as long as your human sticks with it, I think you'll get less distracted when you go for real runs. Seriously, right now you're just 11-months-old! What 11-month-old puppy can focus enough to go for a run without stopping to explore? So just stay with it, and eventually, you'll calm down. As a highly mature 3-year-old (why is everyone snickering when I describe myself as "mature"?), I know the difference between a walk, a run, or a play in the dog park. And I know when I can stop often or when it's best to stay focused. That said, I always make sure to stop to pee or sniff something -- or even to try to chase a squirrel -- a few times on every run. To establish who's really in charge.

As for the Halti, I do not endorse any products on this blog -- unless they offer full blog sponsorship (please contact my agent). Hey, every dog has his price! Pictures I have seen of the Halti harness, however, don't indicate to me that it would be restrictive. I say try it. Or, your human may want to try what my humans do (see photo). They clip the leash to my collar, then wrap it around my belly or chest. That way, if I pull, rather than choking me, it squeezes my belly and reminds me to let up. It's not mean, it is simple, and it works.

Bottom line: you're out there running and having fun -- that's the most important thing. Oh... and the other most important thing: you are reading the right blog. Ruby, as far as this dog is concerned, you are on the right track.

Your friend, Oscar

Dear Oscar, Why did you delete your last post? -- Curious.

Dear Curious,

I hated to do it. But I guess even yellow puppies aren't safe from spammers. That's right: a slimey scummy spammer posted a comment on the last post and in his/her/its user ID name was a link -- probably to some slime-ball gross spam site.

Anyway, as much as I liked the post because it told how much I love snow, I just got rid of the whole thing.

You know why? Because I think spammers are slimey, scummy dufus-brains. And they smell.

Everyone else out there, however, is fine with me, though.

Mind your own business, spammers. Wags to everyone else.

Oscar

Dear Oscar, Why is there a bicycle in your kitchen? A Concerned Observer

Dear Concerned,

Believe me, I ask myself the same question almost every day. First off, the bike is located directly in the path to my dog dish -- inconvenient to say the least! Secondly, what good does a stationary bike do me? What am I going to do, jog in place alongside my human while she pedals and goes nowhere? As if!

Here's the scoop. Alison is training for an Olympic distance triathlon (see her site). She started mentioning to Mark that she wanted a bike trainer to help prepare for the cycling portion of the Tri. Mark just rolled his eyes: he had once owned a trainer. He spent hundreds on it when he lived in Bolton, rarely used it, then sold it at a loss at a ski swap. "Here we go again," he figured, adding up how much money he was about to throw away on Trainer Number Two.

Then one day, Mark brought me to the Dump. I like the Dump because they always give me dog cookies there. Anyway, after he unloaded our trash and recycling, he glanced inside the "Reuse Room." And what did his wondering eyes behold? Eight tiny reindeer and a bike trainer (the reindeer were part of a Christmas light display)!

So now Ali is riding her bike in the kitchen. (Please note: we actually have two, not one, bike trainer... we have another one on loan now too). It is kind of noisy, and it's not at all like bike-riding outside. Mainly because you don't feel a breeze or see scenery flying past. And you just don't have a yellow puppy bounding alongside you as you pedal.

Ride on,
Oscar