As this morning’s “Schnauzerthon” began and I started to carefully guide Tinker’s Air-Buggy down our steeply-sloped street, I couldn’t help but think of the Three Rivers Festival back in the early 1980’s. I worked for two radio stations in Ft. Wayne, Indiana and we were involved with just about every event in the festival. There was the Raft Race, Show Us Your Tan, Mud Jump, Softball Tournament, 3-on-3 Basketball, Concerts, Tug-of-War, Balloon Toss, and of course The Bed Race. It was a typical small-town week of fun that involved all kinds of silly competition, food, and fun. 

My bosses were the two most competitive people that I ever met in the broadcasting business. They insisted on victory in everything we did from the ratings wars to the battle for advertising dollars. “I want their head on a stick,” was the pirate-like culture that ensued. We would meet as a team of 50-employees every morning to boast of our wins and plan for the next celebration. On weekends and evenings we were usually busy at city-wide and station events, fighting to maintain our market reputation as the best. Winning the Bed Race suddenly became the most important thing in life – losing was unforgivable!

If there was anything that I was good at – it was running fast. Sprints and dashes were my forte – forget long distance. One of my responsibilities as a new employee of the radio stations was to help them win the Three Rivers Festival Bed Race. If you’re not familiar, it’s simply a bed on wheels with push bars behind and on both sides of the frame. The lightest of us lays on a queen-sized mattress while five others push relentlessly towards the finish line. It’s like the start of a bobsled race as the team rocks the frame back and forth on the blades to get everyone in sync as the starter’s pistol goes off. As I grabbed the bar on Tinker’s carriage this morning and started to push, it took me back to that first Bed Race moment over 35-years ago.

Tinker, our 100-year old Schnauzer, had nothing to fear as we started this morning’s “Schnauzerthon.” There is no speed left in these legs, just as Tinker’s legs are starting to fail her. She limps instead of runs and this is why we invested in the stroller. We let her out to do her business along the way, while my wife and I take turns with our younger schnauzer Tally on a leash, and with pushing the Air-Buggy holding 26-pound Tinker. It’s the latest in weekend workout routines for us. Other dogs seem jealous of Tinker’s new status and want a carriage of their own. As I pushing from behind, I could imagine Tinker in her pajamas, wearing a sleep-stocking-cap just like the rider we once easily propelled to victory in the Three Rivers Festival Bed Race.