quiet Saturday

After the chaos that comes with Christmas, January offers a pleasant pause. At least in its first week. Well, for me, the pause comes only until we hit Snowdrop's birthday (early next week). Of course, a birthday is just one day and our fuss over it is not nearly of the caliber that other holidays may demand. So, pause it is. Henry and I are chilling on a very chilly day. Inside, idly. 

How is it that my active dog is taking things slowly? It wasn't my doing. My pooch got an upset stomach yesterday evening, and all he wanted to do then was rest. Today he appears to be better, but still, I'm keeping things calm around here. It remains to be seen if we stick with it.

Yes, it's still cold.

For the first time, I see Henry picking up his paws quickly off the frozen, icy (or salty -- take your pick)  ground. I did want to take him on a slightly longer walk this morning, to make sure his digestive issues have cleared up, but I see that his paws are hurting, so I limit it to just around the block.

It's an oatmeal for breakfast kind of day.

Henry takes his usual morning nap...

... and honestly, I could go for one as well, but unlike Ed and Henry, I cannot fall asleep on demand. 

 

Our second walk, still in the morning, is also on leash, and in the neighborhood.  Unfortunately, I did forget that this type of walk really calls for a harness.  There was a squirrel. Then there was a mouse. Or was it a vole? One of those critters that burrows in the snow, but not so deep that Henry can't sniff it out. I pull, I tug, I yank. I hate that I'm being so tough on his throat, but this dog will not give up until the squirrel/mouse/vole is in his mouth. The farmette cats eat those darn critters (yes, even the squirrels). Tufts of hair and maybe a stomach would remain. But what would a dog do once he lands his prey? Bring it home? When Henry takes apart a toy, he typically leaves the shreds for me to find. 

 (this beloved reindeer doesn't stand a chance)

 

 

But I'm sure some parts are swallowed. I don't think his currently sensitive tummy could take a parasite and bacteria ridden vermin. I continue to pull at the leash until he gives up. A real battle of wills! And muscle. I may have won this time, but I'd say it was pretty close! 

I deem him to be well enough for an afternoon trip to the dog park. Just the local one. Penni Klein. Oh, does he need it! At home, his desire to engage me in doggie play had been turned up to high volume. Yes, it's my job to teach him that I am not one of the pups he rocks with at doggie daycare. Some days those lessons seem lost on him. He needs active play.

I let him loose in the dog park. 

I had to smile at this next photo: my command "four on floor," which I issue not nearly often enough, is the opposite of this moment, where all "four" are "off the floor."

 

 

Yes, slow Saturday for me. Perhaps not so much for him. And I'm glad I brought the ball he is jumping after in the picture. It was a good distraction for when he located a dead mouse in the brush. Commands such as Leave It or Drop It just caused him to snort and run harder. But a tossed ball posed a dilemma and I seized the disgusting mangled mouse by the tail the minute he let it go. But it still leaves the question of what was to come next for him, had I not grabbed the mouse? Was he thinking he'd pack it up and take it home? Or crunch those gross bones (and get sick after)?

 

Back at the Edge, my pooch is ready for a nap, and then more play. I take out his Christmas gift from his "cousins" in Chicago -- a Hide and Slide game, where he has to figure out how to get at the treats hidden in various compartments. 

 

 

 

It's hard to say if he is just damn brilliant, or if he is so food driven that he'll force a solution to anything that hides a nibble. In any case, food hiding games are always going to be a hit with him. It's like burrowing after a mouse -- he wont give up until he gets it. (Or I use brute force to pull him away.)

I realize that there isn't a photo in today's post that doesn't include Henry Bean. But of course! Quiet days are days when I can pay attention to my pooch. No distractions, no big happenings. Lovely winter days of total quiet, with my dog.

and so much love...