"That’s two years his heart murmur has been at five”, the vet announced as she withdrew the piercing white hot tungsten tipped stethoscope from Buddy’s back.
His eyes informed me there would be retribution for this inconvenience and that was before the kennel cough shot was driven through his muzzled snout.
Revenge was swift. The very next morning he did his disappearing act in Dawsholm park.
Give him an inch and he takes twenty minutes although understandably he was quite excited, it being his twelfth birthday.
Later that day there was celebrations with cake, made to order by the talented West End baker #cakesbykinane.
Over-indulgence
There’s nothing better than going for a longish run to overcome over indulgence and we make our way round some of the West End’s iconic landmarks.
On this occasion the direction is Kelvingrove Park through the university heartland.
Lord Kelvin keeps a watchful eye over the old putting green, overgrown these days, but now a meeting place for dog-walkers.
We criss-cross the River Kelvin with a nod to the ducks and skateboarders before plodding on in the direction of Partick beyond the galleries.
Mansfield Park is one of those nice understated squares surrounded by good coffee shops and an espresso on the go is just the sustenance for the final mile back to Kelvindale.
Venus and foxes
The quiet early morning runs have been spectacularly brightened by the appearance of Venus in the eastern sky throughout November and December while the foxes continue to torment Buddy, sidling up even closer, jostling for our bit of pavement.
Two years and he’s still going without medication for his ailment except for the daily exercise.
It keeps body and soul together and as it’s the season of good will his transgressions in the park can be quickly forgiven.
Only the other day he was asking if we could carry on in the New Year.
Mindful of that evil stare he gives in the vets, there could only be one answer. He wishes you all a happy running 2019.
* Follow Ronnie McGowan and his pet Jack Russell Buddy as they pound the streets of the West End
