I am being tested by my dogs at the moment. I knew what I was getting into, adopting a high-energy breed. That's why for the last 2 years I have taken them to the dog park up to three times a week, plus I've taken them up to Antioch Park to run 2-3 times a week. And when I say "run," I mean the three of us would run for up to 45 minutes at a time. And when we got home, they'd often race around the house or the yard because they still had energy to burn.
That was good for all of us... right up until the time I tore my hips back in July. I continued training just long enough to get myself through my goal of running the equivalent of at least one 5k race per month in 2010... I even surpassed that, doubling or tripling up some months which fortunately allowed me to stop in November. So I haven't been running regularly since October, as it is the one thing that really irritates my hips past the point of reason.
Couple the cutback on exercise with all the amazing trips I've taken—Thanksgiving in Maui, Christmas in LA, Steamboat Springs for New Year's—and you have a recipe for some bored shibas.
Don't get me wrong, I still take them out in the yard to throw the ball, and we still go to the dog park, but it isn't enough to sap their energy. Even Mary Ann's multi-weekly visits don't seem to curb them. And now during the hours I'm either at work or at the gym every day, they are inventing new ways to amuse themselves. This does not amuse me. This week's casualties were two of my favorite books from Japan (which they pulled off a bookshelf), a pen and a bottle of nail polish (from different tables), which fortunately they didn't quite get open.
It's not the dogs' fault, it's mine. But my patience is wearing thin and they are now relegated to the kitchen anytime I can't supervise them. Until they regain some manners and while my hips mend.
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