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today opened with an eight miler through ogden park, jumping the many puddles along the way, watching the leaf blowers work the tennis courts dry, dogs splashing alongside owners, each very pleased to be outside. the run was cool, the first time I’ve felt cool in many months, and the wind pushed chills outta arms and ears. then a warm shower followed by some dead and Columbian coffee and now for some drawing.
October third.
I work at a restaurant downtown, and this past weekend was Riverfest, which brings the full spectrum of Wilmington area folks out and about. Sunday evening brought a guest carrying a small dog, a pomeranian or chihuahua, blanketed up to its neck through our front door. "May I help you?" I asked. "Yes. I am going upstairs to the sofa lounge and this dog is a disability assistance dog and she has papers," she said. "May I see the papers?" I asked, finding the whole thing strange and questionable and being responsible, in part, for upholding certain laws inside of the restaurant. "I can show you the papers, and I am not trying to be difficult, but I am a lawyer and you should know that you can be sued for requesting the papers, according to the American Disability Act. All I have to do is say this is an assistance dog and that will satisfy it legally."
She showed me the papers.
So her threat/ caustic reproach got me thinking. . . Most assistance dogs have a tag and a visible vest or harness indicating their status. So my question is: If someone states their dog is a disability assistance dog, and there is no evidence beyond that verbal declaration, do I not have the right to request further documentation? As I work in a public space I should know these things. and I looked it up to discover she is absolutely right. In fact, one does not even require carrying the documentation for the dog. the animal is differentiated from being a “pet” by the designation “assistance animal.” the harnesses are not required, nor can one legally deny service to the individual and their companion animal unless the dog barks or threatens another guest. that is not applicable, however, to the individual; they have the full right to bark and bite at all around.
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Sunday, I awoke at 6am for a cup of coffee before a local race. the run the river 8k seemed just the type of organized run I wanted, a nice road race covering the three bridges and some of downtown along the cape fear. so I ate a clifbar and a banana and headed out with shoes in hand so I wouldn’t wake ky and kas. when I got there, the sun was still pushing through clouds, and the temperature was a crisp 60 degrees. nice. I held the thirty dollar fee in hand, but ran a few warm up laps to see what my body was feeling. chatter from other runners told me that they were not running the bridges, that the course had been changed. a bit of a bummer. . . so the course was my old stomping grounds, my old daily run. with that knowledge i just couldn’t justify a thirty dollar timing chip wrapped around my laces. so to the car I went, stashing my cash beneath the seat with my keys and cell phone—7h31am. locked the door—and a ten mile run took me down the river, through recently flooded front street, across and around Greenfield park, back up fifth then fourth then third then water street and back around front street and the riverfest setup crowds. the final two miles were rainy, and the rain was cold and increasing in intensity until I finished shirtless and cold with my nipples raw and unamused. I fit right in with the riverfest workers smoking while flipping sausages and pushing tarps across trailers to push out the rain.
October fifth. Agony of da’ feet
a nine mile run today, tuesday, with the feet burning on soles and arches, toes feeling stretched out in faster pacing. . . . but a good run, quiet and thoughtful, passing the colors starting to fall from the dogwoods, maples, and the assorted oaks. . . one image made a strong impression: was a leaf, faded and degraded and twisted, mirroring the fading boneless bird decaying beside. . . how they referenced each other, mirrored in a gruesome way, as a strange visual poem. brown of torn tired leaf, brown of bone-webbed bird.
to run in autumn; wild geese push necks southward.
October the seventh, thursday. eight miles, a route not done in a while, from the northeast library to the coast, to shell isle and back up through summer rest trail towards the completion of the oblong loop.
Fernando Castro Pacheco amazing Mexican art.
mountain excursion passing through Asheboro and the state zoo and then black mountain/ montreat area. . . a superb night & meal at the laughing seed in asheville put the family’s mind at ease for a few days. running trails throughout montreat, new parks and accordians in Asheville, and the downtown rowdies of Asheboro punctuated the weekend, making for a some terrific scenery on all potential interpretations. more to come. . . .
