I have a bone to pick. No, really I do.

Dog

World’s First Running Dog

Found in a cave in Austin, Texas, this is an early drawing of a dog running:Dogs ran on two legs in those days it seems. They sort of shuffled real fast, hunched over like an old man, or a butler carrying a service tray. We’ve evolved since then. More feet on the ground equals faster run times. When will you humans ever learn? Somebody has to start the trend. Go ahead. You do it. Run like a dog.


Runderdog On The Run

I’m always on the run ’round town. I’m looking for trouble. I can smell it.


The Dog Runner’s Shoes

Here’s The Dog Runner sporting the New Balance Minimus Trail shoe. He loves them. They are supposed to give him the impression that he is running barefoot, that he doesn’t have shoes on at all, like when he was a little baby running naked around on the beach. But they still smell like shoes, so says my yellow Lab friend Andy here. If it smells like one it is one. Dogs know.

The Dog Runner (author of The Dog Runner (he makes me mention that)) likes to run in very light “minimal” shoes from time to time. He’s into the barefoot running movement. Yeah, well, Dog Runner, you should try and really run barefoot, like me. I have to run around barefoot on this dirty sidewalk with trash and other dogs’ crap and sometimes glass and bird poop all over the place. I’ve been a part of the barefoot movement since I was born. Unless you put those stupid little booties on me, I’m always barefoot. So, it’s not just a trend for me, pal.

Ever since this guy Christopher McDougall¬†wrote the book Born to Run, people have been flocking to run like me, like us, like dogs. But people were just plain scared to go around barefoot. Oh no, all those germs and stuff. We can’t do that. No, we’re not gonna do it. Then some company made these little toe slippers called Five Fingers to make it look like people were running barefoot but they’re not. They still smell like shoes. And if it smells like s**t then it is s**t (in my book).

Bottom line: If you’re gonna go barefoot, then do it all the way. Otherwise quit trying to be a dog. Stick to what you do best. When you buy a shoe then buy a freakin’ shoe. Buy something that feels comfortable. Buy a shoe in which your mom might say “Oh that’s a nice shoe. Looks comfortable, Freddy.” Or don’t. Buy a shoe your mom hates but still make it comfortable. Don’t buy a shoe that says that it’s supposed to be your bare feet. It just means you’re getting less shoe. To me, that smells fishy. Don’t give me that less = more crap. Minimal = less shoe = getting ripped off. Just go barefoot, balls out, commando of the feet. Toughen yourself up. Get some calluses on your soul (ahem sole). Step in poop and feel the squishiness between your bare toes. Don’t worry about germs. They’re everywhere anyway. Think of all those gross doorknobs you touch with your hands. Now take off your shoes and rub your bare feet on a few doorknobs. Go ahead and do it. That felt good didn’t it?

Bottom Bottom Line: Grow a paw.

NOTE: Dog Runner still likes these shoes even though I tell him he’s part of a stupid fad.


It Is Your Fault, Kitty

Why? Because you look too happy. Try using puppy dog eyes next time. And no smile, please.


Runderdog

This writing’s gonna be tough for a dog with only paws. Gonna be ruff stuff. Forgive me for that. So I gotta big mouth which usually means I eat whatever’s on the street. But it also means I gotta lot to say. I live in New York City. And this doo-fus named the Dog Runner or something takes me out for runs around Manhattan–east side primarily. But really it’s the other way around. I take him out. Lots to see. Lots to report. This will be my doggy newsletter so to speak. My take on this crazy world.