Poor Wednesday: never to stand out as it chugs along at the tail end of November. It'll always be thought of as the day before Thanksgiving. People talk about food -- to be eaten tomorrow. They bake, they shop, they pack things up. For tomorrow. These days, they're thrilled that kids have the day off from school (it wasn't a day off back when) -- no hustling them out in the morning -- until those kids start pestering and clamoring for attention. Weather speculations abound: will is be icy? Windy? Will flights be cancelled? Everyone hates traveling on this day and yet it is (according to Flight Aware) the most traveled day of the year.
Today, this Wednesday before Thanksgiving really got pummeled from all sides by a squiggle in the Polar Vortex, sending unseasonably cold weather our way for the holiday weekend and beyond. People are saying -- not since the 1960s have we had this in Wisconsin on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving.
There are snow flurries, there is wind. Such a wind! I did not sleep well last night (my fault, don't ask) and I waited for it to be 6 a.m. not because I wanted to prolong my time in bed, but out of principle. Let's not keep pushing wake up time, my dearest Henry. Wait.
He waits.
And now we are out and it is indeed so cold.
I should have put a sweater on him, except I was in some zombie state that did not allow me to think and make decisions, so Henry and I both suffered. Not for long though. We did not stay out beyond the necessary potty run.
Breakfast. A dilemma for me: should I drink coffee or should I try to catch up on sleep? Not a hard decision. I want that jolt of caffeine. I want our routines.
Yes, as I eat my oatmeal, Henry "hides" his dental chew.
This is his last day at doggie daycare for a while. (They close for the long holiday.) And it's not a full day there either. But, I'm eager to get him in to play by mid morning, so that he'll get his movement in for the day.
I stop by my daughter's to drop off a toaster oven and a roasting pan. It's great to see a relaxed, pajama'd household. One of the kids is a little off in health so he is resting extra hard. Another is bouncing around, looking for playmates. The third -- well, she asks if she can hang out with me today. I tell her all that I have to do -- drive over to the bakery to pick up tomorrow's dessert. Laundry. Fill up with gas. Oh, and my daughter would so like it if I took Goose over to daycare on my way to wherever. Wherever happens to be in the opposite direction, but no matter. Snowdrop and I take the pooch and do my errands, ending up at the Edge, where I fix her lunch and she reads and we read and it's so mellow and relaxing that honestly, I think this will have been my calmest moment of the day. Of the weekend really.
I take her back home, run over to the grocery store, and then make my way back to claim Henry. He needs a bath. These are his doctor's orders. So that he would rid himself of stuff he likely carried with him from the shelters still. I know, I know, he had a bath already. The goal is to thoroughly cleanse him, inside and out. I had a hard time finding a grooming place that still had openings this week. (The vet assistant told me -- oh, you can just bathe him yourself... Seriously? My easily scared dog that had a hard time accepting the shiny floor in the lobby of this building? In a bathtub? Ha ha ha.) The one service that did fit him in is sort of like a Spa. Not that I wanted this to be a 3 hour ordeal (for I am sure Henry will regard it as such), but this is the only way they work with dogs. So I drop off my perplexed pooch and continue with my errands. Pet store to get probiotics for his gut (another recommendation). Walgreens to get Tums for my gut. And every time I stop at a store and especially a pet store, I am tempted to add a bag (or two) of treats for Henry. There's one that has turkey and cranberries. Not for today, because today is just the day before. But for tomorrow! Oh tomorrow!
When I finally retrieve Henry, he does indeed look clean and shiny. No surprise there. All those treats for a shiny coat I've been pumping into him seem to do the trick (or, he simply has that kind of a coat). I bring him home so he can rest. But because he just had a bath (with a lot of resistance, I hear, especially toward the bathtub), I do put on his jacket. It is way too big. Henry is long, so I go extra large, but he is skinny so that the jacket hangs like a blanket on him. Not that he protests. I can almost feel his shrug: she must know what she's doing with this.
The day is not done. We have our weekly training class in the evening.
(ready!)
Goose, the young family's dog, is in the same class, with the dad and Sparrow spearheading his training. Only two people are allowed per dog, but Snowdrop really wanted to join in on this and so I let her partner up with me to train Henry.
(he got lots of belly rubs from her)
On the one hand, it's easier for the dog to have one trainer to pay attention to, but I'm not trying to make this easier for Henry. Getting him to completely relax with people who are not me is important. For my pup, taking instructions from Snowdrop is a new way for him to relate to her. And so I back off a little and let them work on some of the commands. (He's smooth as peaches on so many of them -- sit, come, stay, touch, eyes on me -- all done seamlessly. But getting him to lie down will take weeks. No, months. Years maybe. Workin' on it!)
Oh, Henry, you lead a rich and full life. I am so happy for you!
with so much love...
