it's coming!

What's your impending threat or pleasure? Christmas? The holiday visit with the in-laws? The post-holiday letdown that so many feel? 

Right now, in my immediate future I have three, of varying degrees of intensity. First of all, there is the coming of the ridiculously cold weather tomorrow. I do not consider wind chills of -20 or better yet, -30F (-29 to -34C) to be sane for mid December in southern Wisconsin. Perhaps Santa feels differently about it up there on the North Pole, but we in Madison are 3200 miles (or 5200 km) from the North Pole. Indeed, geographically speaking, we are closer to the Equator (3000 miles or 4800 km to our south), so I feel we should reap some benefits from that. Even in December. 

My second event is a compilation of delights -- after I get over the hurdles and through the barricades. I'm to go to Chicago for a performance and birthday and really, to see everyone there. I did not get to hang out with the younger family over Thanksgiving (weather issues then!) so I am especially keen on this visit. However, there's the weather causing havoc yet again (though no storm is coming, so that's good) and then there is now also Henry. He has to stay home, or at least stay here, in Madison. This will be the first time that I will be leaving him. He came into my life two months ago and I've not traveled nor even gone out for an evening since then. 

I will not admit to how many hours I have spent looking for the perfect pet care situation. I checked out, booked, then cancelled private homes that take dogs for pay. (What if they're mean to him? What oversight do I have over their treatment of my pooch?) Ed had once volunteered to care for Henry in my absence, but it has become obvious to me that he knows very little about dog care and, too, there is the issue of farnhiuse cats. And stuff lying around for Hnery to ingest that he should never ingest. Then, I posted notes on the doggie daycare board. Sometimes the caregivers there take on pet sitting. But none could do it this weekend. Next, I booked him in a luxury and ridiculously expensive doggie lodge, then quickly canceled after reading one or two reviews that absolutely trashed the place. All corporate, no soul. I also considered hiring someone to just stay in my apartment, but this is not easy. Henry has an outdoor schedule that is now being established and it relies on me knowing his needs as they arise. Plus he barks at people in the elevator. This has to be handled with care and apology and a firm but gentle hand. So no, that wont work either.

What's a human to do??

In the end I booked him a place at Camp K9. They call his place a "classic suite" but it's a cell, really! That's all they had available. He is on the wait list for an upgrade, but they assured me that dogs do not fare better or worse if they are in the classic suite or their bigger better... well, cell, though with a window! He'd love a window! Camp K9 is way on the other side of town, but I know it from some 25 years ago, back when I had a dog and was equally troubled about doggie care. They remain wildly popular and more importantly, they are a family run place, and they actually care about the dogs that go there. I have received very many reassuring emails to my panicked inquiries about his level of care. And yet, how can I not worry? Wont Henry Bean feel abandoned? Back in a kennel, as if a shelter is to be his home again, with strangers coming to him instead of... well, me!

All that happens tomorrow. Today, I get ready. 

It's cold again. Very cold. Henry is outgrowing his smallest sweater so I may as well put it to good use. 

Again, we do a brief walk. Is this the new normal in the morning? Perhaps it is, at least in the winter.

Breakfast. I have such fondness for this meal! At the farmhouse, when I travel, and now here, at the Edge. Routines firmly in place! 

Then comes the warmest, cuddliest time of the day. On the couch, with Henry.

He goes to doggie daycare, I do errands. Pick up meds for my non-pneumonia. And pick up a Wisconsin antler for my Henry Bean. He really should not rely on very hard chewies (something about potential damage to the teeth), but I think if he has it while I'm there, he will be okay. He always steals Goose's antler when we go over to visit. For Christmas, he shall have his own.

While at the pet store, I see a shelf of foot balm for dogs. I ask the owner (at least I think he's the owner... he acts owner-ish) if this is at all helpful, especially since I have now rejected dog booties for Henry. I'm told it is mildly helpful. I use it for my dog every time we go out in the winter. But then, I live where our walks are always on concrete sidewalks. Well yeah, where else do you walk your pooch around here? Henry, let's try it. I do hate that your feet are bathed in salt against a hard, frozen slab of concrete.

When I drive from one place to the next, I listen to a station that calls itself "Variety Music." (It's 107.3FM) Sure, I know about playlists and I do subscribe to Apple music, but I like the old fashioned radio too, and especially for holiday music. They pick a good balance between jazzy and playful, without excessive religious messaging or an overabundance of commercials. (So old fashioned is it, that they still announce the station with a jingle, just like in my childhood!) I've gotten to know the two dj's and I am mildly amused at their back and forth. They're not terrible, just a bit silly. Today, one of them went on about the pleasure of receiving holiday cards. He offered this -- emails are nice but you read them and they go to your trash, whereas cards get special space on your fridge. 

I dont quite display cards on my refrigerator, but I keep them in a basket right by my breakfast placemat. And yes, I love them. [Some of you have asked for my new address. I am happy to pass it on to you, but do know that sending anything to the old one will reach me as well, via Ed, albeit with a few days' delay.] I truly love these pieces of paper in an envelope with my name on it. Your pictures, your choice of design -- it's all so beautiful. Yes, it is a fleeting connection, but it is a wonderful one. Perhaps a throw back to the days when not everything was done online. For those who send cards -- to me, to others in your life -- thank you. 

The rest of the morning is spent on tidying the apartment in preparation for my monthly visit of the cleaning team. This has been a real treasure. The dusting, the wiping down of water stains -- it makes such a difference! When I get up off the couch I dont have that sinking feeling that I should clean the shelves, TV, table, whatever. I know that what I wont accomplish in the next four weeks, will be taken care of by these wonderful people. One of the best luxuries I've ever experienced!

I go to a coffee shop while they clean. Of course I do. 

 

And then it's time to pick up Sparrow, Snowdrop, feed them, take them (tired as they are from too many late nights) to their play performance.

I cant say that I miss the drive between school, farmhouse, and home. But today I remembered the upside of that drive. This is when I have the best conversations with the kids. I tell stories from my past that relate to their present. The subject of religion comes up. As does the question of kids: how many do they want? They always have a fixed idea about this, though that idea changes over time! 

In the evening, I pick up Henry. Well, I try to pick him up and take him home. I always take him for a short walk before we get in the car. He usually needs it then. Tonight, we walked over to the big field to the side of the doggie daycare and he picked up a scent. Of a vole? A mouse? A dead animal? When Henry does this, he becomes focused on the task of tracking the scent. Nothing else matters. I cannot call him away from it. Tonight, I realized that we've crossed an important milestone: he is now stronger than I am. (And despite my age, I think I am pretty strong.) I could not pull him away. Eventually I tricked him into switching direction, but it should not take that to get him pay attention. I have been sloppy with our training. We do it daily, sure, but not enough, in part because at home, he is always so good at all the commands that repeating them over and over makes little sense. I need to work with him in other spaces, where there are distractions. And that's not so easy in the dead of winter. I glance over the class schedule for dog training. Maybe a few more classes would make sense? Something to consider. 

Henry comes home, we eat, we snuggle. I try not to think about his next two nights away from home. Maybe he'll make friends? Maybe they'll grow to love him there? One can hope...

(keeping his paw on his new snowman squeaky toy)

 

with so much love...