I run with my Corgis.
Some women run with the wolves, I run with hairy footstools.
This has never been an issue so long as I stay alert to their lane changing stupidity. No matter how I lecture them, mirror-signal-maneuver has never been their strong suit.
This leads to the necessity of occasionally jumping over the dogs or veering sharply in another direction. Someday when I tear my MCL, I will strap serving platters to their backs and load them up with beer and munchies. If they are going to cripple me, they will at least cater to my every need during my recovery.
This morning saw the three of us engaging in their favorite activity in the world, running down the hill near our house. This is about as thrill seeking as I get as the dogs go full bore and I'm always a little nervous at how out of control it all feels. (Yeah, sky diving? Base jumping? Rock climbing? You're all a bunch of SISSIES!!!)
Kirby didn't practice mirror-signal-maneuver but instead of running in front of me, he ran in front of Shuggie. Shuggie t-boned him and knocked him off to the side of the street. (Shuggie is built, to use the homespun vernacular, like a brick shit house.) As Kirby was sliding on his side, he did a perfect doughnut and spun 360 degrees. It made me harken back to my high school days and the school parking lot on weekends.
I stopped, totally amazed at the perfect wipeout and Shuggie just kept running, He didn't even break his stride.
Kirby jumped up, covered in dirt, leaves, and gravel, and gave me a quick look as if to say "Maaaaaaan, I hope none of the chicks saw that!"
And he proceeded to run after Shuggie, as always, dragging me along in their wake.