reality

With dogs, as with newborns, you may know, more or less, what you're getting yourself into, but, too, you absolutely have to be prepared for a world of new consequences that come with the arrival of this living creature. Unanticipated, unplanned for. Prepare for that which you don't know! And if you cannot adjust and make room for these, well then there surely will be lots of unhappy campers in your household. (I suppose if you have a ton of money you can flash your wallet at a problem and offload care onto someone else: an au pair for example, or a nanny for your kid, or a dog walker/sitter/handler for your pooch.)

Henry has, so far, proven to be mostly predictable, with small twists and turns along the way. (The pup crazies. The anxiety at being left. The need for a lot of attention.) But of course, he has been here only two weeks. We are young in our life together. Still, I feel that at my age, maybe I haven't seen it all, but I know what I may face. It's obvious, too, that I'll need to develop new skills to meet the Henry challenge. Sure, a dog can be less demanding than, say, a toddler. Give him a Kong toy with kibbles and peanut butter and maybe you can even tune him out for a while. Not for long though. Not my pup anyway. 

Toddler and dog. Young dog, young child: they both need help. They both need rewards. My daughter sent me a recipe of a dog's very favorite cookie treat. True, I rarely bake cookies for the grandkids because they are way too opinionated about what makes for a good cookie, but I sure do bake other stuff. Who knew that dogs like it when you cut out little cookie pumpkins for them, made with pumpkin!

 

 *     *     *

I was good about walking Henry before my bedtime yesterday, but still, I was sensitive to his morning wake-up time. Normally I'd let him fidget for a few minutes before I hauled myself up and outside with him. Not this morning. I want to cement his good habits and not give him a chance to make another mistake.

And so we are out early. It's not exactly dark, even as the street lights are still on.

It's quiet. Every sound puts Henry on alert.

(Happy Halloween!)

 

Back home: shower, breakfast, for him, for me.

 

 

As I eat my granola and watch Henry play, I do realize that he needs an occasional influx of strangers entering his lair (meaning my home). This socialization element is missing. Too, I hadn't quite understood the gravity of having not one but TWO dogs who panic when owners leave. (Goose has severe anxiety at being left alone, Henry has moderate anxiety, but who cares, it's still anxiety and for the near future, neither dog can be left alone.) Here are some interesting consequences: we cannot have Thanksgiving at the Edge. I can fit the people, but I cannot accommodate an addition of two dogs. That's okay, we'll do it at my daughter's house where the two dogs have ample space to romp. That problem at least wasn't hard to solve. And so it must be for Christmas too, I suppose. I cant see these guys being fully acclimated to being alone by then and of course, doggie daycare is closed on the holidays. We will reshuffle things, but I must admit, this I did not anticipate.

 

*     *     * 

It has been a remarkably beautiful fall. And even now, on the last day of October, it is pretty outside -- these are the ending days of fall colors and I deeply appreciate seeing them along with my stunning boy.

(taken on my second walk with him, after breakfast)

 

Hard to say if I wore him out yesterday, or if he is settling in,  but we do have a lovely and calm morning inside.

Playful, but not crazy puppy playful. Not this morning anyway!

 

*     *     * 

I heard from Ed that I neglected to plant one last dozen bag of tulip bulbs. Off I go to the farmette, with my gardening gloves and a pot of chili for Ed. Henry gets a half-day at day care. 

 

 

 

Ah, the farmette! I sit in the farmhouse for a while, resting (still fighting with that damn bug!). Ed brings me tea, granola bars. Then a table to put all that on. Lamp comes on. "I know you like light." Heat goes up. I take care of emails, he reads.

Honestly, I get that lump in throat feeling, because this isn't part of my everyday anymore. I sit back and watch him doze over his computer, on and off, on the couch, exactly as he has done just about every day that I lived here.

 

Ed and I will move things around again in the summer, but I'm not likely to park myself permanently at the farmhouse. I'll be closer, but this space is now his own. It was my doing and I still think it was the right move, but the reality is that I do miss our time together terribly. There just isn't enough of it, and sweet, sweet Henry hasn't helped: the cats aren't clamoring to meet him and I doubt that they will ever be best buds. Not his fault. Their anxiety is even higher than his, and it will never go away.

I plant the bulbs, pull some weeds, so that there will still be flowers here next summer, and I return to the Edge.

*     *     * 

My apartment complex continues the struggle to create community among residents. We were told that we could post a sheet on our door announcing that we had treats for trick-or-treaters. Or we could put out dishes of candy for the three evening hours. On my floor, I see only one sign and zero dishes of candy. I myself didn't buy any because I doubted that the few kids who live here would choose to trick or treat in the building. A few blocks to the west, they have the typical residential neighborhood where they can go house to house. I did not want to get stuck with leftover candy, of the kind kids like and I no longer eat (weird colorful stuff that sticks to your teeth and who knows what else; I did read that the most popular Halloween purchase is a sack of Reese's peanut butter cups and I do like those alright, caloric as they are, but I think that's just parental thinking at play: people tend to buy what they themselves will eat when the trick-or-treaters leave some behind).

The grandkids are all trick-or-treating of course. I smile at the image of the tired littlest ones going door to door on a cold evening. Why is it that they love this holiday so much?! 

*     *     * 

Henry had a good set of hours at doggie daycare. "He just needs to learn that the small dogs that are resting to the side should be left alone and not jumped over." A hard thing to teach, I suppose!

At home, it takes him a while to settle down. I dont know what triggered his pup nuttiness. Perhaps the evening called for it. Halloween does strange things to people and dogs.

I can't believe tomorrow October will be history!

with so much love...  

up for the challenge

Increasingly I am coming to believe that Henry is a Doberman mix. He has that temperament: fiercely loyal and smart, grand with children, cautious with strangers, boundless energy, forever in need of attention. My quiet dog will bark if I ignore him for too long. And yes, you can train him out of that habit, as you can train him out of exuberant leash grabbing after a potty break, and socialize him to be happier with strangers coming and going. The key word here is "train." This kind of personality requires patient, consistent work. He is not a dog for a busy person. An adult Doberman (and whatever mix is in him) can be a joy, or a headache if improperly handled in his youth. I can't do anything about his earlier months, but I can work with him now because he is supremely intelligent and very food responsive. But who are we kidding -- it will take work.

In the meantime, my pooch wakes up and gets movin' at the same time as always (right about 7:10). Remarkable how he lives by the clock, considering that the sun rises later each day.

[On the other hand, I didn't take him out for a quick pee before going to sleep last night. I thought maybe our 8:15 pm walk would be enough. It wasn't. Much later I found his first puddle: on the guest bed! All washable and a lesson for me: he's not ready for an 11 hour stretch at night.] 

(another frosty morning)

 

There is a lot of car movement at John Q Hammons Drive at 7:30 in the morning, but not much pedestrian traffic. I wish it were the opposite. As it is, Henry has his fill of grassy fields and manicured lawns of corporate headquarters, but what I think he needs more of is people contact. 

(We do encounter this man every morning, on his way to work at one of the small hotel/motels that are ubiquitous here.)

Where there is a person coming towards us, I am sure to keep Henry on a short leash, and still people give him a wide berth. He looks energetic. Like he would leap up on you and take off your nose maybe. (He has never leaped onto strangers, nor has he aggressed against anyone, but of course, you wouldn't know that.)

After a walk he is hungry, for food and attention. He gets the first, and just a little of the second. He didn't ask nicely, so I wasn't too accommodating. The CW is to completely ignore a pooch who goes nuts to get you engaged.

(his calming spot: by one of the bedroom windows)

 

My breakfast, finally.

The day is complicated, though not so much for me. My daughter and one child have doctor's visits. The other child is fine at home (school is closed today), babysitting their Goose, but since I have to drop Henry at day care for a few hours anyway, I pop in to check up on the whole lot of them. With my fruit bowls, because that is my grandmotherly trademark.

I brought along Anne of Green Gables. And I linger so that we can log in the next chapter.

(Snowdrop listens from an unusual vantage point)

 

  

Errands are followed by chores followed by Henry pickup. 

(driving past Owen Woods, I felt a little sorry that I can't take Henry to this park  -- no dogs allowed... on the other hand, the many squirrels there would drive him nuts (ha)... what is it about dogs and squirrels?!)

 

 

At doggie daycare, they tell me Henry got a little over-excited today. They have "time out to chill" quarters. He took two pauses there in his five hour visit. Yes, I do know that this dog is high energy!

Henry and I have a meet-up with the young family in the afternoon in downtown Middleton for their annual Halloween extravaganza. I figured not incorrectly that Henry would have a nice dose of human contact.

(Here comes the gang!)

 

 

There were hundreds of kids and parents picking up candies from local businesses.

 

 

 

You'd think that this would be enough "trick-or-treating" for these two!

 

 

 

But no! Tomorrow is their big night. Snowdrop goes with friends, Sparrow goes with Sandpiper and some combination of parents and dog. It will be more chilly, but at least we wont have rain or snow!

 

 

I have to say, dozens of kids wanted to pet Goose and Henry. I was watchful to see how Henry would handle the tumult, the crowds, the attention. And he did beautifully! Even with the toddlers who came up to give him a pat. Goose is a pro at being chill, but today, Henry showed his true nature as well: he is great with kids.

Are you tired yet, sweet Henry??

Are you tired yet, Nina?

(I'm not over my bug yet, so I can't just blame Henry!)

with so much love... 

 

assessment

This morning I asked for some doggie input from a person who happens to be a professional doggie person. Shannon. We agreed that she should stop by and watch Henry in action.

I wanted her to get the full picture: Henry being smart with his commands, Henry being rambunctious outside on a leash, Henry being loving and sweet, Henry eager to embrace his new life. What she got instead was a bewildered Henry who did not understand why I had a guest. He was very unhappy. It took many, many treats for him to come out of his shell. I swear if he could have stayed hidden behind me, he would have done so. 

 *     *     *

My pooch was in a good place this morning. The usual observation period by the window, followed by the usual beautiful walk on a beautiful day...

Well, let me interrupt there: we had an interesting moment when Henry chased a squirrel to a tree (on leash), the squirrel ran up the tree, and then (I have never seen this before!) she missed a leap and fell down, right in front of my dog.

Henry was surprised. I was surprised. A loud thump, stillness, and then she got her wind back and ran up the tree again. Better the danger of high branches than the danger of an eager dog read to... well, I don't know what. If a dog catches a squirrel, does he do anything with it? 

We came back, I ate breakfast, Henry played. 

Shannon came over. Scary Shannon. As I said, Henry was dumbfounded. Why would I do this to him?! Don't I know that he is a shy pup who has never lived in a house before and doesn't really understand the protocols? The chaos out there on the streets of Dallas where he was found and rescued -- that's more familiar to him than the quiet of a small apartment in Madison Wisconsin. Well, at the border of Madison, Wisconsin.

Shannon was actually very helpful in affirming the methods I already had in place, though she suggested I be more generous with the treats. She showed me some engaging games for him, mostly surrounding the idea of getting treats out of tight spaces. She urged me to prepare some special foods for this -- with kibbles and Greek yogurt or canned pumpkin. I made a mental note to buy canned pumpkin next time I am in the grocery store. For my dog. Weird, isn't it?

And she advised to not leave him alone until I am absolutely sure he wont fly into a panic attack. 

I'll be extending his solo time minute by minute. Maybe by Christmas we can work up to half an hour!

 *     *     * 

I chatted to my friends on Zoom and Henry behaved, showing off his most gentle side, right there next to me. And then it was time to get going. I'm still not well (my cough does not sound like something you'd like to have near you), but I want to finish planting bulbs at the farmette. For this, Henry needs to go back to doggie day care. Who am I kidding -- Henry needs doggie day care whether or not I want to plant bulbs. I finally accepted the fact that living with an ummmm, older person is perhaps too quiet for this pooch. I had asked Shannon if she saw the lab/retriever mix in him. She stared for a while, then said -- nah. Maybe retriever, but not lab. Maybe doberman. Or some hound. 

Oh my. 

At the farmette, I finished putting in all the bulbs. Nearly 100 today. I am so done with that worrisome chore hanging over me. 

 

 

 

I then sat down to rest in the farmhouse and for the first time since I moved out, I felt okay in this newly "decorated" space. Barren, but still the old farmhouse, with sunshine coming in through the playroom, throwing rainbows on the wall through the prism I had left behind.

 

*     *     * 

I pick up Henry at the same time my daughter picks up Goose (we coordinated). Two dogs, having had a fine day leaping and running.

 

 

You'd think Henry would be completely worn out after such a full day. Well he was, for a while. But as the evening progressed, he gave his pup crazies one last good shot. No, I did not respond in kind. Not tonight, dear Henry, not tonight.

with love... 

all that you don't know

Henry loves this view from my bedroom window. In the morning, in the afternoon, he always checks out the comings and goings on John Q Hammons Drive.

 

 

 

It is yet another lovely morning. We've had so many of them that I swear we'll be penalized with godawful weather come winter. You know the kind: freezing icy drizzle day after day. But of course I don't know that yet. I can, at this point, allow myself visions of Henry playing in the snow on a sunny day. 

And today? Autumnal splendor.

(oh those sunrise colors!!)

I'm definitely in the "I've got a chest cold" category, but though it's awful in the morning, by midday I feel way better. And I'm still enjoying the walk, that says it all!

Breakfast. I listen to National Public Radio's Morning Edition.

 

And quite out of the blue, I understand something. The segment that comes on is one about the impact of school active shooter drills (which are mandatory) on teachers and kids. Not exactly your pleasant subject, but I have five kids in schools and I feel I ought to understand what they're going through. And then I hear some words which stun me: telling the kids to stay away from windows... to not be in the line of sight of possible intruders... even as they know it may or may not be a drill... whether there is indeed an intruder.

Here's the thing: on days that I have both Sparrow and Snowdrop, I first pick up the little guy, and after a brief break at home, we drive over and park the car in line with others, and we wait for Snowdrop to walk over. She is never in the first flock of kids and Sparrow always plays this game whereby he looks out to see if a kid is passing the car. If there is one, he hides on the floor and says -- gaga, tell me when the intruder has passed and if there is another intruder. Sometimes he'll bop up and shout out -- an intruder is after me!

I thought it was just one of those Sparrow games. He's full of crazy fun word play and he seemed happy losing himself in the game, though I wondered where the vocabulary came from. Intruder. Hiding from the line of fire. From intruders. 

So now I know. 

 

It's a busy day for me: I need to take Henry to doggie day care. [Said doggie day care is going to replace trips to Europe soon enough as a budget category! It's irresistible because only there does Henry get his full dose of social pleasure. His dog pals both stimulate him and tire him out. Walks alone don't do it. I saw that on the weekend. We walked plenty and yet his energy level remained high before during and after.] I have a bunch of eye doctor appointments today and so I drop him off, then spin around and drive to the farmette. Why there? Well, I have a handful of minutes before the doc and I want to use them to put in more bulbs. I had time for 60. Lots to go!

At the doc's, I had two chatty attendants -- one having terrible problems with menopause (she later apologized for "oversharing"). After years of these meetings with medical people whom I will likely never see again, I've come to rely on gently friendly responses that so often test my patience at their inevitable "got any plans for the rest of the day?" (What great plans do 72 year old patients ever have at the end of an appointment?) But today I reversed course. Maybe it was reading Andy Borowitz's email, referencing the advice of his grandfather in troubled times: to stay happy and hopeful, do this every day: take a walk, read a book, make a friend. Here was my chance. 

The doc herself is someone I do know quite well from when she cut up my eyes to rid them of cataracts. Her, I merely encouraged to get a rescue dog. And she might! Kids are grown and out, they have room in their house and hearts.

After the doc visit, I return home. Just enough time to take out the garbage (Henry hates the trash room) and pick up some deliveries, and then I head over to get Snowdrop. Tuesday is "just Snowdrop" day as Sparrow has ballet class.

We have finally worked our way through maybe two dozen (maybe more?) World War II books and I dug out a book I had long wanted to read with her -- Anne of Green Gables. She'd read the graphic novel version of it (of course!), and the modern version of the story (don't ask!), but I wanted her to really experience the original text because in those enchanting words, there is so much to love. I smiled when I read in the NYTimes last week that this should be on your short list for cozy book reading in the Fall. Indeed! It warms my heart to go back to it once again.

Snowdrop and I pick up Henry together and we visit a pet shop that offers welcoming packages of free stuff for adopted rescue pooches. Henry liked meeting other dogs in the shop. This dog will always make canine friends easily -- perhaps because he spent much more time in a kennel with other dogs than in a home with humans.

If you think my days have become very dog-centered, well you are correct. I knew this even as I searched the rescues to see which dog would be a good match. There have been a few surprises: how easy Henry has been to potty train (though with very frequent outings!), how boisterous he is (Goose is much more mellow), how totally miserable he is when left alone, how good he is in training sessions, how happy he is playing with other dogs. Mostly good surprises. Time is what I can give him right now, and so this is my focus. And therefore, the focus of so many of my Ocean posts.

with so much love... 

October punches

This month isn't done with us yet! Whatever bug is circulating out there causing havoc and misery, has come knocking on my door. I woke up knowing I'm going to be its next victim.

Still, the day is beautiful and I don't feel like all the wind has been sucked out of me just yet. Henry politely waits for his 7:15 morning walk, and I forgive him for chewing my rosemary bush and my cacti plants. (I place the cacti and pelargonium out of reach. The rosemary has to suffer his assault. It's huge and unmovable.)

We don't walk very far. Just enough for him to do his stuff. He'll be going to doggie day care in the afternoon so I am not worried about exercise for him today.

(Henry, at the Edge)

 

At home, I fix myself breakfast, ignoring Henry who takes this opportunity to find his collar and chew it to shreds.

 

Oh well. He has a spare, and a harness, but I am taking note of his increased confidence and playfulness. We need to rack up the training sessions.  

We go out again and I practice redirecting him from leash chewing -- his devilish "I am happy and playful" new habit that I am working to break.

 

 

 

Henry's behaviors lead me to study his various breeds' characteristics. If the shelter is correct, then my pup can be called a Goldador -- a Retriever Labrador mix that can indeed be black despite the name, and it can have the retriever short coat, like Henry's. On the other hand, he could be more retriever than labrador in which case the dominant characteristics would be that of a retriever. And here's a laugh -- when my granddaughter asked AI to identify him by photo, it suggested he sure looks like a Great Dane. Or, in another photo -- a Greater Swiss Mountain Dog. Or -- horror of horrors! -- a Rottweiler. I am soooo tempted to do a genetic test!

But does it matter? Aren't I just as able to figure out his temperament by observation? He is in his adolescent phase for sure, growing confident, liking occasionally to take things into his own paws just to see where that will get him. Knowing so little about his past adds mystery to the game. We'll see how this next year -- the most challenging one for black labs, for retriever labs and for lab retrievers (and therefore for me) for sure!

At 12:30 I drop Henry along with his BFF Goose off at the doggie day care for a half day of rambunctious play. 

 

 

 

I use the time to grocery shop and to pick up the kids, one after the other.

(even Middle School has pajama days...)

 

 

And then we pick up both Henry and Goose and take them (and their humans) to their respective homes. 

I'm trying hard not to overdo. May this bug that's landed here, fly away with the rest of the germy pesty viruses that are circulating out there. Henry still needs to go out every three hours (by my calculations), but as long as the weather holds, I'm good with that! Though I am grateful for the few hours Henry has with other dogs. I have to laugh at the dog training materials that all say that smart dogs need lots of mental stimulation. None of them explain how best to achieve it. You train for a few minutes, you give toy choices for a few minutes, you walk with them, they rest, repeat. You cant walk too long (not good for their young joints). They never like any toy for too long. Training as well cant go on past a handful of minutes. At least after playing with other dogs the pooch expects less of me. Like an adolescent that he is, my sweet Henry needs to recharge. He's doing that right now. 

with love... 

Sunday delights and crazies

As always, the morning leaves me with the feeling that the day is full of potential. Having Ed here is wonderful of course. Henry likes him and importantly, the pooch remains loyal to his wake up schedule at 7-ish. Too bad daylight savings ends next weekend. That 7-ish is going to turn into 6-ish, which will feel a lot earlier!

Henry and I go out for our half hour morning walk. Such lovely Autumnal mornings we've had! And Henry is superb now with his harness: walking suddenly becomes very easy. He still has much to learn, and he is very capable of going pup-crazy without warning, but at least I am safe on my feet: he does not pull with all his big pup strength anymore. (knock on that wood!)

 

(sunrise) 

(sun's up!)

(oh those maple leaves...)

Ed is still in bed, and that's fine too. Having him there at the Edge is wonderful even if we aren't tracking each others footsteps. That's how it has always been. A quiet togetherness that is at once intensely pleasurable and without frills or adornments. 

We eat breakfast together. Um, with Henry hovering.

I've been wondering what I can do for my ill daughter without being myself overwhelmed by how much help they may need. Since I am already doing stuff for them during the week, adding more runs the risk of wearing me out. Still, I thought perhaps taking the big two kids and Ed and the two dogs (their Goose, my Henry) to the dog park on this beautiful day could be a win win for everyone, including me.

And it is. The two dogs play like a team. 

 

 

Both are extremely friendly with other dogs, both love the freedom to run, both keep by each other the whole time we are in the park.

And Sparrow and Snowdrop are just grand too, running with them, leading their Goose out of a mud bath (really Goose?!), tossing a ball, but mostly admiring their social nature.

I know the two kids have their Young Shakespeare Players (YSP) meeting this afternoon (the full production of Henry IV) and both ask if I can be the one feeding them lunch at the Edge, then taking them to their drama group. Ed returns to take care of the farmette animals. I drop off Goose at home and bring Henry and the two kids up to my apartment. One child likes croissants, one likes pasta. Henry would like both as well, but I am adamant about never ever feeding Henry at the table.

Still, I do remember reading the mystery series that takes place in the Dordogne, France. The police detective always fed his pooch the tip of his croissant. Henry deserves as much! But in his bowl, after a sit, stay, which is going so well that I can't get him to release!

I drop the kids at YSP then park the car and walk over to Bloom Bakery. My daughter's husband mentioned that she would love to be surprised with a sandwich and a pastry from there. How could I turn down such a request for my very sick daughter? 

Hmm. Easily. The line to Bloom is long! At least twenty minutes, snaking outside. And this isn't Paris. Dogs are not allowed inside. I would leave him in the car for five, but for a long wait? No. I do not want to resurrect his separation fears. I'm about to turn away when the group of people in front of me turns around to pet and admire Henry. They're just a notch younger than me and they are prepared to wait for their bakery treats. The gentleman in the group turns to me and says -- look, you may not feel comfortable doing this, but I'll happily look after your dog outside while you wait and get your stuff. 

 

 

Really? Where do these good people come from? Henry wasn't at all disturbed at being left with a fan club (and one quickly formed outside, since he really is a calm and beautiful dog). This is what living in Madison feels like! (Ed reminds me that it's not just "in Madison".) 

Of course, Henry does have his moments. Great walker, until he decides (for example, this evening) to grab the leash and play tug of war with it. (You're supposed to stop and redirect. Easier said!)  Or how about when he rolls over on his back and wants his tummy rubbed, with his mouthy help. Pup stuff. Luckily, he saves it for me! A well behaved child who occasionally acts out for his parent. 

I'll take care of you, you earnest big pup, you! It's not as if I hadn't done some crazy kid stuff when I was your developmental age! 

with so much love... 

drizzly skies

Well, Henry and I had a nice walk in the early morning. No frost today, but it is definitely cap and gloves weather. For my demographic anyway.

 

 

 

I've come to appreciate all the sprawling office spaces, the comfort inns and the like in my neighborhood -- they have grassy fields for my pooch to sniff out. Much better than having him traipse over someone's private lawn. People understandably do not appreciate dead grass where your dog has emptied his bladder. The corporate fields, on the other hand, are so thick from fertilizer and weed killer (all that stuff that then goes to our lakes and creates algae bloom in the summer), that a dog puddle has no impact on the entirety. I'm not on the side of these places that grow lawns. I've never liked them. But at least for Henry, they serve a purpose. 

Breakfast.

It's a quiet day for us. I have an ear out to my daughter -- she is far from well. For some reason the pneumonia hit her especially hard. But I get no calls for assistance, so Henry and I stay home. 

 

 

 

I work on some training: we are up to four minutes of alone time without wailing! We continue with the usual sits and waits and comes and hang backs. 

The drizzle begins early and that's fine -- we still find it easy to go out, often, but for briefer spells. I do not want to go to the doggie park so we play at home. Big dog, small home. It's not the best combination, but it will have to do. For at least nine more months. 

So is my time completely spent now on watching, training, walking, feeding Henry? Sometimes it seems that way, but of course -- this is what I always thought with dogs: they need a lot of your attention when they're young. Henry is an active dog. You can't let him get too bored in life or else he'll go after your slippers. Or worse. By comparison, Goose is a much less demanding animal, content to sleep next to you for a good chunk of the day. What a difference a year makes! Or maybe Henry will always be a more energetic pooch. He sure appears that way now. By afternoon, I sense that he needs a little more action than what he has at the Edge. I take him for yet another walk.

(Three readers highly recommended a harness for walking an active dog... they were so right. Game changer indeed!) 

 

 

And still, after a walk that maxed out the minutes this dog should walk in any one day, he seemed like he needed something more. 

I took him to the little dog exercise area that is part of the Edge. It is padded with quite yukky astroturf. I get it -- a dirt patch of this small size would not work. It would be all mud in a matter of days. But after the day-long drizzle, it smelled of dog pee. I thought of leaving, but then I paused to watch Henry.

He loved it! Someone had left tennis balls and my pooch was thrilled,  running with one, then throwing it in the air for an attempted catch. 

Was he tired after? Well, not exactly. Active dogs dont tire that quickly. I see I am going to be tempted with half-day doggie daycare!

 

Ed comes over this evening for supper, for a Henry walk, and for an overnight.

 

It's really good to have another human with me, one who doesn't need to hear commands to sit and stay. He does it of his own accord. Until tomorrow anyway, when he has to return to the farmette animals.

with so much love...