The spell of warm weather should bring joy and a spring to the step, but Buddy revels in testing my patience.
In Dawsholm park he frequently runs off-piste, disappearing for ages in the seasonally dense foliage. It’s difficult to keep tabs on where he is, as if he cares.
Often, I’ll be stood like an idiot who can’t control his dog as another friendly dog walker will inform me that the “Jack Russell puppy is back down there”. He’s eighty years old, with short legs, and an even shorter attention span.
When he was a puppy he once left me standing, literally for hours, while that evening’s dinner was charred beyond recognition.
So it’s a relief to have him on the lead for a longer run through the streets, to quench his summer energy levels, and this circuit takes us round Anniesland Cross and over to Scotstounhill.
We’re heading towards that flat stretch on South Street, from the old Yarrows shipyard to the border of Whiteinch and Partick at Sawmill roundabout.
On a clear twilight evening this length of road resonates with a powerful historical atmosphere; from an era when shipbuilding was this city’s life and blood, to the present day hi-tech BAE systems.
Buddy’s alert antennae are pinned back on full steam ahead, but it’s more Para Handy than ‘warp factor 9, Mr. Sulu’.
This outing is a substantial seven miles, but he bears up well. His limit is eight, and that occasion had him feigning exhaustion for twenty four hours afterwards.
At the moment his murmur is stable, touch wood, without medication, but he wouldn’t be without his daily exercise which is beneficial for his heart.
Buddy loves padding round the West End, but he’s probably always hoping for a de-tour by the park.
With food ready there’s little prospect of that happening. Once bitten as they say.
* Keep following Ronnie McGowan and his pet Jack Russell Buddy as they embark on a challenge of running every day for a year