Henry and me

Happy November... I say that with a hope that it will be happy, even accepting that it is my least favorite month of the year. (I love Thanksgiving, but that holiday comes at the tail end of the month, so you have to push through all those bleak and dark November days before you get there, by which time you're one foot into December anyway.)

A person whose heart is very much aligned with seasonal change and nature's marvels should not dismiss a whole month out of the calendar. And most certainly other months have presented worse days than November could ever deliver. Heatwaves and droughts, storms, blinding blizzards, you name it. And of course, December has the darkest days.  

And yet, here I am, admitting to a prejudice and an aversion that I've carried with me for a very long time.

We start the month with a time change (tomorrow). Normally the "fall back" in time has its bright side: an extra hour to the day! Yeah! But, too, the day suddenly ends way too soon and, too, I now have this great big pup who needs to go out whether the clock says 7 or 6, so I feel I really will have lost an hour of sleep. 

And of course, I start the month still hackin' away with a cough so there's that.

Well, never mind: let's get creative!

Having gone to the farmette many times this past week, I'm pausing today. Ed was to come over tonight, but I told him that spending the night in the same close quarters as a coughing person is not great, so we switched his visit to tomorrow and during the day. That leaves me with an empty Saturday: no Ed, no kids, no friends scheduled. 

But there is Henry.

My beautiful almost 8 month old pup wakes up nicely at 7 (or tomorrow's 6!). I try not to rush with getting him outside. He knows I'm making my way toward a walk. Let's keep it calm.

By 7:15 we are out. The sun will rise today at 7:33, so yes, it's still gloomy out there, especially since it's cloudy. Bleak November indeed!

Henry is heavily into sniffing this morning. This is a good thing for him, but it does mean that our walk has a lot of pauses. Still, a distracted dog is a good dog to work with, because one key element of my training program is to get him to focus on me when I need him to focus on me. Telling a dog to "come" when he is sitting waiting for your next command is easy. Getting him to come when he has picked up the scent of something terribly exciting -- that takes practice. So we practice.

Henry is very attentive to my praise. Unfortunately he is slated to become a one family member dog, which at once has its nice sides (oh that infinite love!), but also it means that I am his. Sharing me with, say, the computer, or the remote for the TV, or my phone -- well, we're working on that.

We eat breakfast. I look at photos from my grandkids' Halloween. It's all rather beautiful.

And then he snoozes on my lap while I catch up on reading. Yes, Henry is very much my lap dog. Not all of his body fits -- between him and me, we do fill the couch! -- but still, I am anchored to my seat, typing with one hand, gently rubbing his ears with my other.

 

When he wakes up, I mobilize myself to take him out for a good run. I realize that walking your dog for exercise is nonsense with a dog like Henry. He gets very little exercise walking next to me and believe me, I am not a pokey walker. He has Greyhound legs! No way does that dog work up a sweat with me leading him!

We go to a new to me off-leash dog park -- Walnut Grove, just six minutes down the road from me.

I'm bundled up, because the day has that November chill to it. With a light occasional drizzle. Perfect for a person with a cold, no?

The park is not big and it hasn't the good walking trails that other parks may have, but Henry loves it anyway. And I work with "come!" and treats and he is so good! 

Eventually another dog joins us. This is just perfect. Talk about good exercise for my guy! And for the other dog as well. Yet another pooch comes in later and both owners thank me for helping them exercise their dogs!

Watching their purebreds, I note the issues they present. The barking. The snarly disposition. The drooly mouth. None of these are Henry's issues. I feel like I'm on the playground with other moms or dads proud as hell of their own, smiling a little at what other parents have to put up with, feeling relieved that even if I dont have it easy, I dont have it that bad at all! 

Even this late morning romp will not be enough for Henry. But it's a good start. At home he sleeps, I write.

In the afternoon, I return to my other dog park, the one in the opposite direction. The one with the longer trails. Because I know Henry will have a happier evening if he runs off some energy in the afternoon as well.

And yes, I am aware that not all vets will recommend dog parks. I can see the dangers: you just don't know who will be there. Unvaccinated dogs. Sick dogs. Aggressive dogs. You just do not know. (In doggie day care, they screen and monitor every single pup that crosses their threshold.)  One bad experience and your dog can become something you don't want him to be: frightened. Sick. More aggressive.

And yet I go. Henry needs the run on weekends. And his temperament is so good for play: he's not aggressive, he's fairly easy to call back for a treat. I watch carefully and cross my fingers. 

 

 

 

So far I've been lucky. The Walnut Grove is in a posh suburb, so I see posh dogs there. At least I know they'll be vaccinated. The other dog park with the long run is significantly more agreeable for exercise, but it's almost in the boonies, out by a small airport, so there is a risk. I go, but I know there is a risk. 

Evening. Just Henry and me tonight. Fiercely loyal -- he to me, I to him.

with so much love...