Running Dogs - Poetry in Motion

The trio waits, trembling. As we fumble with lines and clips, their muscled rear ends crouch low, toes dig into the ground readying for push off, their heads point straight ahead into the softly lit expanse of grass land before them. And then, free! They blast into the meadow. The fire in their bellies is fuel enough to launch them around the field countless times.
 

Turnip, our dog- Jack Russel x Basset 

Burren, our dog- Catahoula Leopard Dog x Border Collie

A friend's dog that I'm boarding - a mix of ? x ? 

Sadie, dark and glossy with legs flung wide and a spine that almost floats across the land, runs down the west side of the fence line, turns and runs south, in the lead, always in the lead. Burren’s lean form in dappled gray pumps and stretches directly behind her. Burren moves with elegant power, made for running and also for stopping and turning on a dime. For two seconds she is neck and neck with the black wind runner, before falling behind. Turnip, short and squatty, but powerfully muscled, shaves yards off each turn to meet the other two on the straight aways. 

Two circles completed, the dogs fling themselves onto the ground, bellies on the cool earth, mouths gaping wide, tongues dragging across front legs. Their bodies glisten with morning dew, each muscle well defined, each pant sending little puffs of heat into the chilly air.  Chests heaving, hearts pounding, they gather up steam to feed the fire in their bellies.

A car horn sounds in the distance sending the three hurtling into another furious race. Sadie flies ahead, Burren cuts diagonally and Turnip races to a spot in the center of the pasture and waits. He watches for signs of Burren tiring and then starts running to meet the two. Burren slows and Turnip launches himself into a great and powerful sprint, close to Sadie, his short rear legs grab and bust the turf sending grass flying out behind him. He runs with an amazingly smooth, powerful rhythm of gathering his stubby legs under him and then flinging them out before and behind. His legs and paws are angled and stumpy, yet they move him powerfully forward. What he lacks in grace he makes up in pure will and heart for the run. Turnip pours out everything he’s got, but Sadie is still a nose ahead. Even running tag-relay, Turnip and Burren can’t catch Sadie. Sadie is sleek grace, pure poetry in motion. 


In a flat out run, Sadie’s paws reach way past the end of her nose and past her tail’s end. She is made for marathons. Burren’s reach covers less distance but she is still fast. And, dear Turnip’s little stumpy legs barely stretch past his nostrils and half past mid-tail as he catapults his body forward. He is made for powerful short sprints, for digging furiously; his will to engage the other two is the fire that ignites the competition. 

Awe is not only experienced on a mountain top, or when coming upon a gorgeous field of flowers, or in the gaze of a newborn babe. Awe is also watching dogs run free.

It's good I'm a painter of words and not a photographer because I seem to ruin every camera, I own.