food for thought

I am reconciled to early morning walks with my dog in the dark now. I may coax my Henry to go back to sleep for another hour, but what's the point, when I myself cannot go back to sleep after a lovely wake up greeting from him? Unless it's before 6, I get up.

The morning walk doesn't have to be long because Henry is quick to settle his affairs out there, but I always give him a bonus stroll and today it was to Squirrel Hill.

(a dark dog on a dark morning)

On our walk back to the Edge, we run into Carol. I met Carol at one of the social gatherings here and I found out that she likes to baby-sit residents' dogs. This is useful information because there will come a time when I have to go out in the evening and don't want to spend $80 for an overnight boarding just for a quick bite with Ed, or with the fam, or whatever else might pull me out of evening hibernation. Carol, therefore, is a person I want to court as a solid mate. However, Henry, who has never met her, has other ideas. As she approaches, he goes on alert. Woof, woof, WOOF! Henry! It's okay, have a treat! Take it down a notch! Carol is sympathetic, but she tells me -- Nina, don't push it. Next time he'll recognize my voice. (turning to Henry) -- I'm not going to hurt her. Carol, Henry is a boy. Oh I know. But he's barking because he wants to protect you, not himself. He's letting me know to stay away from you!

So that's what's going on! I had assumed he barked out of fright. And I wondered -- he getting so confident with people he knows. Why is he getting worse with strangers? Carol gave the ready answer -- because with each day, he feels closer to me and wants to be sure no harm comes to me. I can just imagine his thought process: poor helpless old human, innocent to the core, so easy to knock down by a mean one out there, I need to fend them off! Woof!

At the apartment, he eats, I eat. 

 

 

I give him his dental biscuit, he buries it in his bed. I find it, he tries burying it in the couch. I find it. Then in the spare chair's woolly cover. Why, Henry, why?

 

 

It's back to doggie daycare for him this morning. I use the time to take out the pots of annuals from the balcony and dump them in a nearby field. To pick up some more green beans (don't ask). And to test the holiday lights. 

And finally, I use the time to sit down with my Thanksgiving recipes and set up a cooking schedule. I'm late this year because the big stress of getting a perfect turkey out on the table is off of my shoulders. My son-in-law is doing the meat. I'm left with the sides. These are so set by years of repetition that I really should manage without much fuss. Well, except the cheesy hasselback potato gratin. Why I ever introduced that into the holiday menu is beyond me. Total pain to make and nothing can be done in advance except maybe the grating of the two cheeses. And it is beloved now so there you have it.

 

Sparrow pick up time!

Wait, what's this? Their Goose -- a dog even bigger, or at least heavier than Henry, is in need of a few sheltered minutes while his home is being worked on? Sure! Come on up! 

I cannot imagine two big dogs in the apartment, tearing at each others toys, but Henry is in daycare. Goose smells him of course, and enjoys sampling his various chewies. 

And yes, I put up some lights on the tree. Just to see if I like them there. And now I can see now why people purchase trees with lights built into the branches. On a thinly branched tree like mine, it's hard to hide the wiring. Nonetheless, in the evening, the glow is lovely. 

Snowdrop pick up time!

(Yep, tree is up. Work in progress.)

 

 

Gaga's house inspires endless reading. And munching.

Henry pickup time!

He and I come home to a twinkling tree. If I thought this would catch his interest, I was wrong. He's indifferent to the whole enterprise. Maybe it's because he is concerned about the lingering smell of another dog here. Maybe it's because he seems extra tired tonight. Or maybe it's because fake Christmas trees are just not his thing.

with so much love...