Into the light of the dark black night.

I whistled as I noticed that he was getting a little to much ahead of me. He didn't care at all. He usually perks up to attention when I whistle, but not tonight. There he goes. I could barely see him now, It has been rainy all day and the heat has turned the air into another one of those nights. As I quicken my step and start to jog I realize that our deal about him being on the 1ft lead for only emergencies? He may have just broken it.

"MUTCH!" I yell whispered, the kind where your throat gets scratchy.
Even in his aging years he heard me I know he did, because he turned around for one quick second to see me at a faster-than-walks pace, scampered a bit faster and then started running. I know that the first rule of dog club is not to run to catch a dog, but my dog never just straight out runs away from me on our walks. He's always respected our deal. My ball cap bounced off my head as I started to jog passing the tall live oaks along the Boulevard. The spanish moss really is extraordinary on these misty nights. The moon light is suggestive enough to coerce me into looking at the frondescence in 2-dimentional values for more than thirty-seconds. The air doesn't seem as chilly now. My blood rate is definitely up for the first time this week. That's a good start to a new week of "heart rate up for at least 30 minutes, three days a week" rule. I feel proud that mostly I exceed that.

Moments later I caught up to him and didn't scold him for running away from me. He slowed his pace and stayed right next to me the rest of the block and I serenaded him with the familiar "BAhrahRAHROOOOOO" that makes Jeffrey the Long Dog howl. His tail was wagging eagerly. I understand his happiness to get out, it is Sunday and I've been pretty much working all day.

Four blocks later I have to stop. I've never been fond of running just to run. I think it reminds me of doing squat-thrusts in grade school PE. Those were the worst. I remember basketball practice and then laugh to myself thinking of how I tried out for every sport and never made the team. I couldn't hit a hoop with a ball if a stork came and dropped it in there for me. But not now. Now, people stand and stare when I'm on the Super Shot game. Can't help it when the machine is screaming "NICE SHOT!" "WHATTA SHOT!" and "TWOOOO POINTS"! Much in the same way as your momma at the mail man, on check day.That reminds me. I was never good at cut down fights either.

I slowed my pace to a fast walk and couldn't believe that I just ran five blocks without being chased.
"hey, get up here on the grass" I said because Mutch veered out onto the road. He obliged, and led the way back to our house. My mind jumped to one of my most favorite songs that I sing too myself. "Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly. All your life. You were only waiting for this moment to arise..."