Here’s my story at the occasion of the 1st Canicross in Paris, on March 31. By the way, my name’s Romane de Lavagane, also called Ready, and I’ve just set a new world record for an English Bulldog.
First of all, I found it very hard to wake up at 5 in the morning, when I usually wake up every day around 10. But when my owner showed me my bowl full of high Energy Belcando, I didn’t’ think and just ate. Then a snap in the car for a warming, I got to keep all my strength, no? We arrive in the Bois de Vincennes and here I find myself surrounded by a bunch of tall legged dogs. Funny, isn’t it?The vet seems quite surprised to see me, but then he wishes me good luck all the same and says I’m apt for the race. And that’s when the hardest part of my story begins.
After a dazzling start, I quickly find myself far behind the others. I quietly reach the “Guns Hillock”. Woof, woof! what a hill! But the most difficult is to climb down: I almost believed my owner was about to fall and crush me. The little green men (the path keepers) gaze at me funnily, as if they couldn’t believe what they are seeing. So what? Haven’t I got the right to run too? I am very thirsty 2 kilometres later, when fortunately I come upon a lot of water. I’m only too happy to be able to drink, so in the river I jump and my owner, she has no other choice than to follow me. So we cross two fords without much problem, apart from the fact that with my short legs, she has to push me a little to put me back on the ground. Now that I feel refreshed, and with my ears in the wind, I happily run again. It’s not that hard, I just have to follow the white line, and what’s more, a lot of people applause me along the way. The third ford foretells the finish line, and I just love to bathe when it’s sunny!
It’s getting harder at the fourth ford. I throw myself into the water, but I cant’ touch the bottom, as I just remember I have short legs. I swallow a mouthful of water, glug glug! Fortunately, my owner pulls me by the harness and puts me back on the bank. Thanks there are harnesses sometimes! One last kilometre on the grass, and I overtake, or am overtaken by children. My owner’s doing fine, and I’m not worst than her. And I cross the finish line! That’s great! Everybody applauses me, the speaker keeps calling my name, the photographers take pictures of me. I’m the last, but I’m a star!!!7,3 kilometres in an hour and 4 minutes: world record for an English Bulldog. I win a beautiful medal, a pack of kibbles and some sweets. That’s all very good, and I can tell you I truly deserve it all. You know, that’s a real feat I’ve just performed.
If I could talk, I would have thanked my two Beauceron buddies, Swanie and Norka. And my armchair too, on which I psychologically train for all these efforts. By the by, I’m eager to be back on it for a good rest. It’s hard to be a sporting English Bulldog.
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