My Dog Had the Need for Speed! 🐶💨🏁
It started like any other walk. The sun was out, the birds were chirping, and my Golden Retriever, Bolt (yes, named after that speed-loving dog), was casually trotting beside me with his usual pep in his step.
But then it happened.
A squirrel darted across the sidewalk.
That was all Bolt needed to go into full-speed mode. With zero warning, he launched forward like a furry rocket. One second I was walking peacefully, the next I was sprinting behind him, leash in hand, yelling, “BOLLLT! SLOW DOWN!”
Spoiler alert: he did not slow down.
We tore down the street, past stunned joggers, confused neighbors, and one poor mailman who had to dodge us like he was in an action movie. I’m pretty sure Bolt thought he was in a NASCAR race because he zigzagged around bushes and jumped over a park bench like a four-legged stunt double.
Eventually, the squirrel vanished—but Bolt didn’t stop.
He hit the dog park entrance, skidded to a dramatic stop like he was drifting in a race car, and looked back at me like, “Did you see that? I’m built for this.”
I was panting, half-dying, and clutching my side, but Bolt? He was thriving. Tail wagging, tongue out, looking like he just won gold in the Doggy 500.
Other dog owners were laughing. One guy even said, “You need a speed limit sign for that one!”
I couldn’t even be mad. There’s something hilarious and magical about a dog who’s just living his best, high-speed life.
That day, I learned two things:
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My dog is secretly training for the canine Olympics.
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I need better running shoes.
