a doggy Sunday

How much does your dog reflect your personality, or perhaps you reflect his (I'm keeping it male, as Henry is a boy)? It's a question I ask myself in dog parks. There are growling yappy dogs across all genders and ages of course, but on the other hand, I see a number of gruff old men with their gruff old dogs and I wonder if that's just a coincidence. I have said this many times -- Henry barks sometimes at some strangers moving towards us, and I'm not one to say that he picked any of that up from me. Too, I don't see his behavior as giving me permission to bark at people who irritate or scare me. Still, those gruff old men, letting loose their unpleasant dogs without apology or explanation... It can't just be a random pairing.

Of course, Henry has been with me for less than two months. Maybe I'll feel free to  let out the occasional bark after a year with him.

A year with Henry... I feel so lucky to have that in front of me. Many years with Henry if all goes well. Honestly, I had no idea I would love having a dog this much. Yes, I like animals and dogs especially, but I know, too, the burden of caring for an animal that is actually a high demand beast. And I chose a large one. Deliberately. And I love his size! I know I should be firm about his jumping up to greet me -- he can knock me over easily enough if he jumps hard. And yet, I love those greetings where I can give him the kind of hug I would give a person my own size. (He does not jump on other people. That would be a real no no. Well, he makes an exception for Ed too. And Ed, too, doesn't discourage it.) 

Henry continues to sleep now until 6:30. We go out around 7. I consider that sensible! 

It's still very cold -- we top out at 19F/-7C today. On goes the sweater. 

We got a couple more inches of snow overnight. A lovely cover to the urban dirt that inevitably tarnishes the winter landscape. 

For me, there may be such a thing as too much snow (I know for many, any amount is too much), but I dont know what that limit would be. I've never been in a place that reached it. I have loved every snowfall we've had this year. And I wont mind if it continues, so long as we all stay safe and warm.

Breakfast. Henry seems more tired than hungry this morning. A first! 

Should I limit his activity today? As I call Ed to talk this over, I see Henry getting his bounce back. I feel a dog park is a perfect option: he does not have to run there. Many dogs walk slowly, sticking to their humans the entire time.

The dog park next to the farmette is a good option for us: not too demanding, it is still spacious with good trails. And Ed is happy to join us. Which, of course, makes Henry happy.

Despite the cold and the wind, there is such terrific sunshine, that you can't help but love being outside today. At least I can't help but love it. I comment to my friend later in the day that it truly is joyous to take Henry to an off-leash park, and on a sunny day, it's downright effervescent!

Henry shows no sign of wanting to slow down. Snow? So easy to burrow your head in it in search of treasure (I hear Goose found a dead rabbit this way)!

 

After our walk, I ask Ed if I can snitch some of his windshield wiper fluid. He tells me his supply is low, but we can pick some up at Walmart, which is quite nearby. Hmmm... that's a good idea. I can pick up a regular old door hanger for the wreath. The suction hook I afixed to the door, guaranteed to hold up an elephant, could not manage my not very heavy wreath. Oh, good, then I can pick up some mushrooms and apples there as well. 

Now wait a second: we've got Henry. It's not a great idea to have him wait in the car while you do a full blown shopping. You could walk him... Oh wonderful! After the beauty of the dog park he gets a Walmart parking lot. No. 

We go back and forth on this for a while. Henry sits in the backseat and awaits the decision.  I feel like we're having the type of negotiations usually reserved for parents trying to balance kids and life's daily tasks. 

Eventually we decide that we'll park at Walmart, I'll get the wreath hook while Ed waits with Henry, then he'll get the fluid and his few groceries while I wait with the pooch. And we'll top my fluid at the farmette, where I can walk Henry.

Home: I eat "lunch."

 

 

 

Henry wants to rest. If I'm not on the couch, he'll take the pillow.

But as soon as I sit down, he comes up to my side of it. 

This is my writing set up: computer on lap, Henry's head against my hip, his paw caressing my face.

 

 

 

And once again I take him to Penni Klein just before sunset. For his final big run of the day. Without salt on his paws.

("Hmmm... should I run with dogs or hunt for buried treasure?")

  

 

 

 

There was a lovely older couple in the park with their own dog named Henry. I think we've seen them there before. The woman most certainly was a dog lover and she tried in various ways to engage my Henry. All she got out of him was a series of loud barks. Honestly, I think he warms up faster if you ignore him. But I did feel apologetic. She didn't deserve his booming voice. Perhaps the next class for him should be the one where you train your dog to be socially polite. He may be a shy young pup, but he looks and sounds like a very large and very loud dog when you first meet him. Oh Henry...

At home, I took away his Advent Calendar. Today he "discovered" one more treat of a rather suspect nature (if they dont tell you what's in it, it's suspect). A box with treats? Henry became convinced that the best approach is to tear the calendar to shreds rather than follow the ridiculously slow and gentle process of opening one door at a time. 

Me, I kept to my jigsaw puzzle-a-day calendar, but I began to wonder -- what do I do with 25 completed puzzles? Typically I put jigsaw puzzles back in a puzzle box and pass them on to Goodwill. But these little guys -- is it the recycle bin for them? Perhaps next year I'll stick with chocolates.

with so much love...