Bucky's Journal
October 1, 2006
Another new month on the path to Pugtacular. October began and I felt strong. All this time I had been training and building towards the long-awaited event in December. Every day brought more training. My endurance level was sky-high. I thought I was ready to take on the race right now, and I would win.
Patience is a virtue, Trinket's voice said in my brain. Now, what is a virtue? I know chew means to destroy by way of teeth, but what does vir mean? And what is patience? I smiled and cleared my head. Being able to not think is a skill in any good pug. You have to believe that thinking does no good. I sure believed it.
Mom walked into the room. "Bucky, I have news. A pug has volunteered to race against you. His name is Freeway. He will help you train." Well, this was interesting. A pug volunteering to help out another. This was certainly news.
October 2, 2006
I had my first training session with the pug Freeway today. He was a fit pug, and he taught me quite a bit about pug racing. He told me about how to accelerate at the end of a race, how to move your paws correctly to avoid tripping. What I found exciting is that he was a former champion. He had won the 2003 race, when I finished fourth. Because I was a pug, I didn't know he had won. Heck, he was the first former winner who I knew the name of. Dogs change, I guess.
Freeway taught me how to prepare for a race, what mindset to be in. He taught me how to explode in the start, and how to keep your paws light to move faster. Finally, he finished his lessons, and we ate a snack and talked. He told about the medal for winning, and how you feel after a win. I asked him about any other events he did. He told me he used to do agility, as means to prepare for a race. "As a matter of fact," he said, "I could teach you some agility." I agreed, and we set up to meet again another time. Once he had left, Mom walked over.
"Bucky, I was reading the Pugtacular site earlier today, and they said the pugs wishing to apply is too many for them. They want all pugs wishing to race to go through a qualifying round." She said.
"Which means?" I barked, wishing to cut to the chase.
"It means you'll have to race twice to get that medal."
"Fine," I muttered, "this just gives me motivation."
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