Don't let this smiling face deceive you.
I think Buster is trying to kill me. Just kidding...kind of. Buster has had a lot of energy lately, and Finchy hasn't wanted to play with him (we are pretty sure that Finchy has intestinal cancer, but Ryan and I don't want to do the ultrasound to confirm it and he isn't in any pain that we can tell right now). So, I have attempted to rollerblade with him.
Chili Dawg and I rollerbladed together a lot, before his cancer struck. He knew how to pace himself and once we got going, he just knew how to do it. It was like he was "born" to skate with me. Finchy and I NEVER skated together- Ryan has to skate with Finchy. Finchy has no idea how to pace himself and as soon as Ryan gets the leash on his harness, Finchy takes off like some sort of demon is chasing him. And Finchy is fast. Super fast. Even now, at 10 years old, he is still a ridiculously fast dog. For half of the trip, Ryan would be pulled at break neck speeds around our subdivision, and then Finchy would "wilt" and Ryan would practically have to walk back home.
But back to my Buster story. The first time we tried, Buster freaked out at the end of the driveway and just stopped. I fell and rolled. I reached for Buster, to pet him and let him know that it was okay, and he cowered like he was afraid I was going to beat him (confirming our suspicion that he was abused). I decided to go slowly with him and we found our rhythym. The second time, we were going fast. He remembered what we were doing, and there was no freaking out at all by him. I was thinking to myself, "Wow, this is just like when I skated with Chili Dawg..." until all of a sudden, Buster stopped in the middle of the road and I flipped over him and went down (it was on Thanksgiving, so there was no traffic on the road or anyone outside). I look down and my hand is all bloody, my elbow is bleeding through my shirt and I hurt a lot. Of course we were far from home and I didn't bring a phone with me. So, I sort of hobbled/skated home, with Buster trotting next to me nuzzling my hand with his head. When we got home, I showed Ryan my wounds and looked down and saw a bloody footprint on the tile. We realized that Buster was also bleeding, but he had never yelped or limped to show me that he was also hurt. We think that the reason he stopped in the street was because he stepped on something sharp, cutting his pad. When a dog cuts their pad, it takes a while for it to stop bleeding. Our dog styptic didn't work, so we took turns sitting on the floor with him, keeping pressure on his pad. Then, I cleaned myself up. I don't know if we will try skating together again. I know this time wasn't Buster's fault, but I was sore for several days after this fall, not to mentioned bruised and scabby (yeah, that means covered in scabs).