Last night was a bit better. My son came with us for a walk.
Julieta did OK until my son found a basketball in a length of road where people dump all kinds of stuff. He bounced it and I thought she was going to piddle. I understand the life she's led and she's never seen a basketball before - my son doesn't. She didn't want to go anywhere near that loud thing and she'd squint her eyes every time it hit the pavement. Poor thing. We figured out a good trick though. My son lagged behind a bit and every time I said "Pick up the pace" to the dog, he'd bounce the ball. She moved a lot quicker then and kept right in the "heel" position next to my left leg.
We walked for about a half hour and then got back to the house. We didn't do enough distance in that half hour so I went out again and did a couple more loops around the park. I got in 2.5 miles.
My son was whining that he didn't want me to go back out, he wanted me to stay and watch The Goblet of Fire with him. My petit mon ami is a sabateur! Just shy of 16 and he didn't want me to go back out?! I've raised a woos. Well, little chick is in for a rude awakening. It's been all about him for the last 16 years. Like any mother would do, I've sacrificed, gone without, and put off things I'd like to do. I always tried to do what was best for my son. This has backfired on me in a way. Part of it is his age, but part of it is that he's become spoiled and selfish and thinks he's entitled to whatever he wants. 4 words - Dude, get a job!
It's time I started taking some time for me and taking care of me. I deserve it.