Walking, Now Fortified with More Rabbits

I really don't know what Hershey thinks of "walkies". He only goes spastic once I pick up the leash. We go along at a brisk pace thanks to his insatiable desire to track everything that moves - or doesn't move, as in the case with garbage day and open cans.

Our favorite time is around 6:30 or 7 AM. The world is quiet. The temp and humidity are sort of low. We speed down alleys and around blocks. Every day is a challenge to go a bit further.

On days like today, however, we do two short streets and say, "fukkit" before returning home. It's not Hershey's fault. It's entirely on me and whatever my body decides to do. And, usually, when we call it an early morning, something inevitably gets Hershey into dork mode.

It was dark when we left this morning. It was also an hour earlier than usual. Our alley path was barely lit from porch lights. Shadows lurked throughout yards, beside garages, over hedges. Things moved along, unseen by us but occasionally heard.

Hershey caught a scent and dogged it at a clip. He's not bad at tracking. The animal had meandered from one yard to the next, now and then crossing the pebbled asphalt and vanishing completely for the span of several houses. We eventually overtook his quarry - a yearling rabbit that I spotted first thanks to my height and the bunny's eye shine.

You'd think Hershey would bray, or surge forward once he snapped eyes on him? Nope. He did the equivalent of clutching his skirts and jumping on a chair to avoid a mouse. There we are in the dark, confronted by a monster, with the dog skittering and sweeping around me in a frantic attempt to flee back home.

This is entirely too much mental effort before coffee. Bandwidth: nil. Between my hissed, "Hershey Hershey Stop!" mantra and his strained "hehs" as the nightengale collar tightened around his neck, half the neighborhood surely knew we where there. The other half likely woke up once the trashcan filled with diapers fell over and rolled across the way.

Diapers. During a pandemic. Good grief. I felt so contaminated after I was done picking up.

The rest of the walk was uneventful, minus a few more startling moments for Hershey.

★•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•★

For those curious about my sudden return to physical activity:

I did well on my diet, dropping 40 pounds over the course of several months. That came to an end when hypercalcemia landed me in the hospital for a few days. It's all tied to the endocrine system, naturally.

Weak puns aside, my ability to lose weight was a direct result of the nausea I experienced. I wasn't voraciously hungry for the first time in my life. I forced myself to drink two Ensure a day and eat a small dinner. Going out with Better Half was difficult, as the thought of sitting in a restaurant made me queasy.

Once home, and with all calcium supplements discontinued, my brain returned to an unfoggy-esque state and my hunger came back with vengeance.

Had I been able to stay that low-intake course, I would be closer to my goal weight. As it is, I'm still hovering at the weight I was before leaving the hospital. Don't get me wrong - even after 40 pounds, I'm morbidly obese. Even after limiting my daily caloric intake to under 1100, I'm morbidly obese. And at the same weight. Christ.

Such is the joy of thyroid cancer and slow metabolisms. How slow? I'm reptilian. My body doesn't regulate my temperature well. Too hot out, I run a fever. Too cold, I drop as far as 75.6. I should be dead. Or well rested. Or both.

THUS I decided to add exercise to my daily ritual. Perhaps that, and diet, will get me back onto the weight loss course.

AND we have a hyper hound that needs energy bled off him at least once a day. Win-win.