One of the tests that I never looked forward to taking in physical education class was the sit-and-reach exam.
Chances are you remember this test. It was the one in which you sit down and put the bottom of your feet against a wood box that was in front of you that had markings on its top like those on a ruler.
The goal was to fully extend your legs while sitting down and then to lean forward and extend your arms, placing one of your hands on top of the other with your palms down. Then, you had to hold that position for a couple of seconds to see your score — the most distant point you could reach with your fingertips.
The test measured the extensibility of your hamstrings and lower back, and I quickly learned that I was not flexible. Thirty-some years later, the same is true: I am not flexible.
I exercise — run, jog, walk and bike — a few times each week but my flexibility is as bad as it was when I was in my teens if not worse.
I never realized, however, that not being flexible could be such a challenge if you’re a dog owner. And we’re not talking flexible as in being willing to change or to try something new.
No. We’re talking flexible as in being able to bend and move — the physical education sit-and-reach exam type of flexibility.
Our 90-something pound golden retriever Santiago will turn 2 years old this month. We brought him home about a month after the global pandemic started in 2020.
My wife and I both grew up with golden retrievers when we were kids, and we both wanted one. When COVID-19 forced us all to spend more time at home, we decided the timing was perfect to bring home home our 10-pound, 7-week-old puppy. Our only regret is that we didn’t get from his litter, as he’s a great house dog.
Each day is an adventure with Santiago — from his stubborn persistence to want to get up between 4 a.m. and 5 a.m. to go for a walk to his daily desire to run around the house with a stuffed pink platypus squeaky toy in his mouth while being chased.
He’s about the best dog you could ask for with the exception of his stubborn side that comes out from time to time.
He loves to be petted, for example, but we have to bribe him with peanut butter to brush his coat.
He loves to get a bath, but we have to lure him into the bathroom.
And then there’s the regular task of trimming his toenails.
We decided to do it ourselves at home, as his toenails need trimmed more often than he goes to the vet. We watched videos online and bought the necessary dog toenail clippers at the pet store.
We knew it would take two of us to do it. The how-to YouTube video, however, didn’t prepare us for trying to trim the toenails of Indiana’s most stubborn Golden Retriever.
And I didn’t realize that I would have to be more flexible than a gold-winning Olympic gymnast as I moved around to hold Santiago in place as my wife cut his toenails.
I twisted, turned and moved until my body said no as we tried to trim his 18 toenails. What should have taken a couple of minutes took several.
I learned quickly that my dog is as flexible as a rubber band as he twisted, turned and moved to try to avoid the toenail clippers as much as I used to try to stay away from the sit-and-reach test.
I never thought I’d prefer to take the sit-and-reach exam again, but at least that test ends in two seconds. Trimming a stubborn Golden Retriever’s toenails took as long as it takes me to run a half-mile on a bad day.
My the-glass-is-half-full attitude makes me think Santiago won’t mind having his nails cut as much as he gets older.
The realist in me, however, says I better start working on my flexibility with that unpleasant sit-and-reach exam.
jdpeeper2@hotmail.com
