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...