I have new exercise equipment.

It offers 115 pounds of explosive resistance. It features a full-body workout. The drill is never the same. And you can get an even harder workout if you try to run while doing it.

The “feedback” is a tad low-tech. But when you hit your stride, it will let you know.

It comes in a trendy black and white color scheme.

And like other home workout equipment it has multiple uses. But instead of being an impromptu clothes rack that many turn an exercise bike into, this equipment will literally whip your attitude into shape.

Some might want to call it “Double Trouble”. I call it “Rascal” and “Whitney”.

They are mixed breed Dalmatians. Rascal has a liberal sprinkling of pit bull while Whitney — who stole my heart with one nudge Monday afternoon at the Stanislaus County Animal Shelter — has American terrier in her mix.

For the past three weeks it has just been Rascal and me.

Our long-time pal Dante — a pure bred Dalmatian with one blue eye and one brown eye — left us to frolic among the clouds.

Dante was a runner. We hit the streets every chance we got until two years ago. That’s when he started having seizures. It put an end to our running. Then about six months ago he developed a tumor.

At first, I wasn’t going to replace Dante. But then I started to miss taking a glance out of the sliding doors and watching two bundles of joy play as only dogs can do.

I started running again with Rascal. It was fun but to be honest one hyper energetic Dalmatian can be a tad too much. Two is better than one.

I know this from experience as I used to run with two Dalmatians at a time using a two-dog adjustable dog lead attached to running harnesses that each had their separate leash.

My time with Racal I learned two things. Dalmatian mixes can even be more energetic than purebreds and when crossed with breeds such as a pit bull they can channel a tank and rocket simultaneously.

Rascal besides being almost a  spitting image of Pete the Pup from “The Little Rascals” — it was a comedy before my time (really) — she has a happy go lucky, playful, and sweet personality. Before I “rescued” her she had been well trained, acting like a lady in the car on the drive home, and somehow got the idea that a 65-pound dog should have lap rights.

I was looking for more of the same. There were multi reasons for that. I wanted a pal for Rascal as much as for me. I wanted someone as energetic and around the same age of 2 years. A non-barker and a snuggle fiend were on my list. And I wanted a dog that could serve as a counterbalance to Rascal whenever I take them on a walk or, lord help me, a run.

I say “lord help me” because after three days of just walking with the two I realize when I start running with them it’ll be like doing a full body workout while trying to run a 10-minute mile.

I get I’m crazy. Most people are happy just to take a dog out for a leisurely walk. Why do that when I can work on strengthening my grip, work out my shoulders, and upper arms, and use my full body as resistance when one or the other thinks it might be a good time to go into full dynamite mode.

It’s my 172 pounds versus their collective 115 pounds. That might sound like I’ve got an advantage but they have eight legs between them and I only have two.

The advantage I have is the two together with the double dog lead means 99 percent of the time I can use one’s weight against the other to my advantage to maintain control.

It’s the 1 percent that can get interesting. I’ve already adjusted the lead to prevent Whitney from suddenly deciding it would be fun to run under Rascal while we’re walking or for Rascal to decide to play leap frog as we’re heading down the Spreckels Bikeway.

Based on previous experience it will take a good month or two before we all get to know each other to the point where a walk — or a run – is simply a workout combined with a great time instead of having the added dimension of being a mobile comedy act.

Whitney — the name I gave her because when I first met her one-on-one it was as exhilarating as when I crested Mt. Whitney at 14,505 feet for the first time back when I was more of a young pup — is also a rescue dog.

Given how will she is behaved I’m assuming whoever had to give her up did so because as she got bigger  — she’s 49.5 pounds currently and likely to eventually match Rascal at 60 pounds — her energy level and playfulness increased.

I wouldn’t want it any other way.

It is why the backyard — all 3,200 plus square feet of it — is their backyard. Years ago, I purposedly planted it with more than 15 trees and expansive shrubs to create ample shade and play places. Yes, the grass is gone but who cares?

Rascal doesn’t get into trouble for digging holes.

Not only did Whitney instantly take a liking to Rascal but within minutes of coming home for the first time they were zipping back and forth across the backyard at hyper speeds cutting through bushes and rounding trees.

Whitney also has a plus that I hope I can get Rascal to adopt. She loves water. Every Dalmatian I’ve ever  had had at minimal eschewed wading pools to cool off in or roll in or else they have a huge dislike of water. That’s not an issue for Whitney.

I have this large rubber-like relatively flat storage container sans the lid I use to keep plenty of water in to make sure my dogs never have to worry about water when I’m away at work or gone all day on a hike.

Whitney walked right up to it, lapped up a few mouthfuls of water and then stepped into it to continue drinking.

She rarely takes a drink without making it a semi-bath at the same time.

Rascal and Whitney, as far as I’m concerned, have only one job and its being happy. It involves playing, rolling over for a stomach rubbing, a quick snuggle or looking as if they are the most-happy-go lucky living thing on the planet.

Both have secured a spot in my heart.

This column is the opinion of editor, Dennis Wyatt, and does not necessarily represent the opinions of The Bulletin or 209 Multimedia. He can be reached at dwyatt@mantecabulletin.com