Thursday movements

Well, Henry tried out waking me at 5:55 again this morning. I thought about turning him away but really, what does that get me? It's not as if I'll get much sleep between then and, say, 6:01 -- his usual up and aware time. So I praised his determination and out we went.

Naturally, it was still pretty dark. Sunrise today is at 6:48, and the camera is pointed east to give me some of that early light. We walked over to the more open field and he spent a nice few minutes exploring all possible escape routes for small critters.

I did come to understand though, that at this age, Henry is not going to be my vehicle toward a great amount of exercise. Sure, steps are added each day. I surpass those 10 000 goals easily. But they are casual steps. Our walks are such that they are too tame for him (I don't run), but on the other hand, his sniffing -- so necessary!-- slows us down even more. I do not work up a sweat, even on our longer walks. Too many interruptions and distractions for my infinitely curious pup.

 

 

He, of course, doesn't need even more exercise, so long as he has another day of daycare (which he does today -- I have kid pickups all afternoon). But I need to quit fooling myself that just having a dog around will keep me in shape. I need to fit in more solo walks, or else drive over to the farmette and take one of our trail paths through it.

And yet, here I am, after breakfast...

 

 

... feeling sleepy on the couch with my pooch. And after dropping him off and picking up groceries for the week, feeling sleepy once again. Am I going to turn into one of those napping nanas, that dozes off in the middle of spirited conversations? Hmm... one more thing to learn about myself as I slide toward the middle of my seventies.

 

Pick up time!

 

 

 

 

 

The kids are lively, happy to go to Culver's after school, happy to come to the Edge, happy to pick up Henry. You know big Henry? The dog who still cannot be left alone for more than a minute, and who loves an evening on the couch as much as I do?

 

 

with so much love... 

well of all things! (Wednesday surprise)

Yes, Henry came to me at 6:01 this morning. I had to smile. My very smart rescue dog. You know, the black lab - retriever mix (as described by the shelter), right?

Oh so wrong! 

The DNA test results are in: Henry has 0% black lab, and 0% retriever in him. Instead, he is a total Rottie-Dobie mix from one parent, and a mix of Siberian Husky and Great Pyrenees (plus minor presence of other breeds) from the other. Oh, Henry!

Let me say a few words about all this. Ed had asked -- why do people want certain breeds anyway? Well it's the whole nature/nurture deal. A breed has predispositions and reputations. Your dog may not manifest those traits that belong to his (let's stick with male dogs, as Henry is a male) breed, but chances are quite high that he'll lean in that direction.

So Henry's one parent (I'll say the dad) is all Rottweiler and Doberman Pinscher. But to understand this, you have to know what a Doberman really is (aside from being described as "fiercely loyal, intelligent, affectionate and determined to please;" they forgot to mention "BIG"). Going back a short time (19th century), a German dude, Mr. Doberman, had wanted a breed that would help him with his work. He was a dog catcher and so he knew his dogs! He wanted, and I quote:  the color, shape, and strength of the Rottweiler and Great Dane, the agility and determination of the German Pinscher, the speed of the Greyhound, the tenacity of various Terriers, and the sleek coat and figure of the Manchester Terrier. He also added Schnauzers, German Shepherds, German Shorthaired Pointers, and Weimaraners to the mix. And so he created what is now called the Doberman Pinscher. In other words, this breed already has the traits of a Rottweiler and it also has some of the Great Dane, etc etc. Mr. Doberman gave his own name to this unique dog mix.

My dog thus has a lot of Rottweiler in him! The DNA test says 36%. Yet he has none of the stocky look, that broad chest, or thick legs of a Rottweiler. Henry looks like the other half of his dad -- a Doberman Pinscher. 

Still, given his Rottweiler leanings, I had to read up on this breed because its reputation can be that of a bully. 

It's an incorrect reputation. The real bully out there is your little Dachshund.  Those dogs bite! Rottweilers have been around for centuries -- date them back to the Roman Empire, where they were kept as cattle dogs. But by the end of the 19th century they were virtually extinct. They had a resurgence -- highly intelligent and hardworking, they were used as police dogs during World War I. The three most common traits that are listed as belonging to the Rottweiler? Calm, intelligent, hard-working. And then -- friendly and good with children.

So why are Rotties thought to be such trouble makers? Blame it on the humans who live with them, and want them to be something that they are not. Using their loyalty to encourage a manly dominance. Ignoring their need to work, to please. All the things we do to dogs to control their lives in ways we want, that may or may not align with their temperament.

On his mother's side, Henry has no Rottie or Dobbie at all: as I noted, she was a mix of predominantly Siberian Husky and a Great Pyrenees. (Everything else -- Satffie Terrier, Pit Bull Terrier etc  -- has a presence of less than 10%.)

So why spend all this time and effort on identifying Henry's past? Well, maybe because he has so many unknowns floating about him. I never did a DNA test on myself because I know enough about my parents, grandparents and great grandparents that it's pointless to search further. But Henry -- where does he come from? What do I watch for? How to interpret his (initially) shy nature? And here's a fun one -- do we know any of his relatives? Turns out we do! Some live in Texas, one close one is on a ranch in Colorado, another is in Connecticut. None of them look like Henry, but then, Henry is unique!

I do know that letting his intelligence slide is the very last thing Henry needs. That kind of a dog will put his smarts to work whether you want him to or not and if you don't give him a path to follow, he will find his own, and it wont necessarily be one you like. It's like making a smart kid sit through boring lessons, on repeat. Sooner or later they will act out. 

So, I'm happy with the added information! And I am thrilled to be working with Henry, my mixed-up non-lab non-retriever but awesome Rottie Dobbie Husky Pyrenean Gentle Giant combo dog.

... who, as I said, was up and at my bedside at 6:01.

I linger a little, reading the DNA analysis, but not for long. 

And breakfast? Still studying the data. And back to granola, because it's warming up a little outside.

And then a rest and a snuggle...

And we are off -- doggie daycare for my pup and a trip to the farmhouse for me. 

I do wonder how my pup fares at daycare. And I learn something about this today: there is actually a webcam of their indoor space. I can take a look!

 (Dogs, clamoring to go out now; I see Henry! The white paws and his Doberman build give him away. And by the way, I had no idea they provided care to so many dogs, and that all those dogs can stand quietly in one large room together. Henry wisely hangs back from the crowd.)

 

I ask later at pickup how many dogs do they have at their max. The answer -- 80, although today it seems to have trickled a little over that. 

 

In my visit to the farmette, I take in the dry November landscape. Fallen maple leaves -- they'll need a mowing before winter. Honey lotus seed pots -- a raking is in order, they're everywhere, ready to sprout new trees. And of course, the spent flowers. You can (and arguably should) leave them alone until spring, but they'll have to come down eventually. Oh the work that is no longer my work!

 

 

 Me, I take a short nap and then Ed and I go out for a walk. At our park. Because the weather is so lovely (albeit windy!).

(on the way to the park, the usual crowd -- not of dogs, but of cranes)

  

 

My evening is a mix of trying to be social (there is a wine party at the Edge tonight) and trying to pick up Henry on time. You know, the Henry that would not enjoy a crowd and so I dont dare bring him to it. Since everyone around me is sipping wine, I shrug off my own abstinence and pour myself a small amount. How strange that I used to have this every day! Do I miss it? Yes and no. The moment of drinking had always been so enjoyable. But, like with sweets, it's a short-lived pleasure. And like with sweets, the more you indulge, the more you want to keep going. So, I'm back to my non-alcoholic beer upstairs for the rest of the evening, with Henry at my side. Happy dog, very happy dog owner.

with so much love... 

 

Tuesday gratitude

I suspect Henry, my huge and lovable rescue pup, knows how to read my prominent and colorful digital clock. He sees the numbers light up a 6:00, waits a minute or two, stretches and comes over to my side of the bed and licks whatever part of human flesh he can reach. No matter what time I take him out at the end of the day, no matter when I turn out the light and he settles down for the night, no matter how light or dark it is outside -- the time is always the same. The dog's a genius.

This morning I was surprised to see a light layer of snow on the ground. Henry was surprised as well.

 

It will melt today, this week for sure, but at 6:15 in the morning, it is undisturbed and very pretty. Black dog on white snow, with just our footprints marking an awakening world.

I would have slipped his sweater on him, had I thought about it, but it's very hard to think about much of anything as you pull on your own sweats and a jacket at this early hour, with a hound watching your every step, lest you stray from the routine and postpone an exit. Well, never mind -- we aren't out for long and we do a quick return by the side door, where deliveries are made. Henry is used to coming in this way at the end of the day. And he is used to me going into the delivery room to make sure no package was left for me, so he marches over to it and waits as I inspect labels (even though this morning I know there will be none for me, but it's good to reassure him that his thinking process is solid).

As I do some morning straightening and food fixing, I give Henry a new toy -- a chicken with flaps (imitating feathers) under which you hide treats or kibble. 

The chicken doesn't stand a chance. 

Is there no indestructible toy that he would like to sink his teeth into?  

 

Since it was a rather cold morning walk, I am thinking that it is the perfect day to make oatmeal again. I haven't made it since... some cold morning last spring! Henry smells the difference. What? No granola? What does this mean? He looks on with some suspicion before settling in his usual spot on the couch.

 

 

Since it's a kid pick up day (though only Snowdrop today), Henry is back at doggie daycare, and since I know that his BFF Goose is there this morning, I take him after his nap as well. But, yes, nap on the couch comes first. I would not miss that lap dog moment for anything.

This is one of the few days that I haven't filled with appointments or errands. I have been longing for a day where I just stay home and let the day unfold. Perhaps a nap in the afternoon?

Well, I don't quite go that far, but still, I do a lot of reading (second book of the Thursday Murder Club, which is even more delightful than the first! Atwood will have to wait...), and every once in a while I look around me and I smile. The comfort of living in a warm apartment (and with a southern exposure, it is deliciously warm) doesn't escape me. And having had 14 years of winter at the farmhouse, I am totally in love with having a garage now for the car! A garage that registered this morning at 50F/10C and is likely to register that again, even during a deep Arctic blast. No scraping or feeling the chill of getting into a totally frozen car. And how about this -- I did the laundry today in a washer/drier that is on the same floor as ... everything else! The steps down to the farmhouse basement are narrow and without a banister. And the stairs there to the bathroom are steep and slippery. As is the ice buildup on the path to the parked cars. I am at the moment swimming in luxury. My building has an elevator! Ice and snow magically disappear from the sidewalk. The shower is warm and strong. Ed always said that we take daily comforts -- heat, running water -- too much for granted. I am not taking any of it for granted.

Adjustments? I've had those too. For one thing, I'm living without the guy I love next to me. And I am living in a small space -- one that cannot comfortably have a family of 11 plus two big dogs in it for a meal together. And of course, there's the daily getting up at 6... 

But, people who leave their country behind at age 18 to go off and make a life elsewhere are usually not too bad at adjusting. And really, that warm garage and bathroom on the same floor! 

 

Toward evening, I pick up Snowdrop (she has clubs before school, during school, and after school -- the girl likes clubs right now better than she likes school). Anne if Green Gables time. Wait, did you just have a third chocolate covered gingerbread cookie from Classen's? Snowdrop!

And later still, we head out to pick up her dog and mine. 

 

 

Oh, Henry, you sure played hard with Goose today. I have never seen my pup so tired. Ate, slept, snuggled. That's about it. How about if I covered the clock with a towel? Will you still wake up at six? You probably can see through fabric. I wouldn't put it past you. My genius dog!

with so much love... 

 

active Monday

We are still feeling the remains of the Arctic blast that dumped a bit of snow on us this weekend. Meaning -- it's cold when Henry and I go out at 6:15 this morning. Yes, I'm resigned to it -- up at 6, walks at 6:15 all the way until March 8th, when, miraculously, we will revert back to 7:15 and I will be lulled into thinking that I have gained an extra hour of sleep.

I skip the sweater on my pooch today. The winds have died down. Our walk wont be that long. Squirrel Hill and back.

(regal pup!)

And breakfast, as predictable as anything. Perfect.

The two big kids are again off from school (monthly in-service) and they really want to explore Prairie Morraine Park with their pooch. We all pack into my Crosstreck -- four people and two very large dogs. A tight fit!

Yesterday's sunshine took away some of the snow, but the park is still amazing!

(Goose, with red harness, Henry with the plaid collar)

The two dogs romp, we walk the now familiar trail...

(when I first came to live in Wisconsin in 1979, I was so impressed by the huge beautiful sky... here: mother and son, and that sky)

 

 

(she now wears her mom's coat. and sweater. and earrings. and everything.)

 

 

And then I take them home and drop off Henry for a few hours at doggie day care. I need to head out to the farmhouse. I promised Ed I'd clear out some of the remaining piles of questionably useful stuff. Not even remembering what's there convinces me that I can get rid of it and it wont be missed.

On the way there, I stop at Classen's, just to see if they have started baking their Christmas stuff. They have! My favorites! 

 

 

The cold snap, the cookies, the sudden leap into the heart of November -- it really does feel like we are in full blown winter mode. Even the farmette lands look like they're primed for the Wisconsin deep freeze.

And that's just fine. For the first time in a long time, I dont have to scrape ice off the windshield in the mornings and I certainly am not worrying about shoveling. And morning walks, in this cold? I still love them! Henry has brought out that morning excitement in me. Sweet, sweet pooch! 

 

 

with so much love... 

oh my dog!

Last night it snowed. Gently, lightly, but still, it's cold enough for the snow to stick. Not thickly, not anything you could ski on, or even build a miniature snowman from, but enough to create that blanket that looks so pretty because it reminds you that winter has a beauty card all ready and waiting for you. (Not that it delivers it to your hand often, but still, you know it's there.)

The young family and their Goose celebrated. Kids, throwing jackets over the pajamas, ran outside with their dog and I got a text with a picture and a message -- "Goose's first snow!" Ah, the exuberance of childhood -- theirs and their dog's. (Goose is 1.5 years old and being a Houston dog, to their knowledge he had never before seen snow.)

I walked Henry last night just as the snow began to fall. None of it yet clung to the grass. I noticed that he seemed hesitant when approaching wet surfaces. Of course he would be! He's Henry.

But this morning, he got the full monty.  The fields around us had that light layer of white stuff. For Henry, this most certainly is the first snow. Born around March 8th (as per vet's best guess) and found somewhere in Dallas, he definitely is not used to a Wisconsin weather pattern.

 

 

Did my vivacious dog jump and run with total abandon? Did he dance with exuberant joy? 

He did not. 

It is fair to say that as per his general approach to new things, he was hesitant, suspicious, unsure, watchful. 

(the safer world of Autumnal leaves)

(good to know that this snow stuff hasn't obliterated squirrels from the landscape)

Not totally opposed, but nor does he find this snow stuff to be a thing of great possibilities and adventures. It is to be tolerated. Indeed, I noticed a little shiver. 

And here I come around to the expense of having a dog. I knew that I needed funds for some basic equipment. A crate (which he refuses to enter). A collar and a leash. Pet registration. Food, a few toys, vet bills (I got pet insurance). But it has been so much more!  Doggie day care by far heads the list of biggest money grabbers. It's not expensive really: a whole day of it costs about as much as an hour of babysitting for a child. But those days add up. Then come the leashes. This one is okay, but that one is better. Ditto collars. Great, until you find out that a harness would really help and a second hiking harness would help even more. Toys: he positively shreds anything shreddable and ignores the really tough stuff. Little bully sticks? He could go through them like the wind, so I limit it to one for long days, and then only when I am trying to do something in peace.

There's more. With the coming of cold weather, I googled if my dog should have a winter coat. Being raised in postwar Poland (I had a dog then), I always thought this was American nonsense. Dogs can manage cold weather! They are born with thick coats! 

Turns out they're not always "born with thick coats," and indoor pooches can suffer terribly in very cold weather. Even in slightly cold weather. Henry was shivering this morning! So okay, doggie sweaters. And a jacket for those famous Arctic blasts. Then, when I heard it might rain later in the week I googled if a dog needs a rain coat. Here's the thing: if you have a small dog, you can get away with very short walks and all this stuff becomes a comfortable addition but not a necessity. With Henry, you cannot get away with short walks. This dog that, when running, very much looks like that picture of a Greyhound on the bus, needs plenty of exercise. Outdoors. Okay, I googled everyone's first choice rain coat. It's coming next week.

Not a day has gone by when I didn't realize that I could do with more treats, more clothing for him, more chewies. And don't even get me started on the tempting accessories. I try hard to resist bandanas, Santa hats, collars with mistletoe, but I am who I am: these things are so adorable and my Henry is so adorable! And not expensive! Still, I am very much aware of the fact that people in this country are going without food right now. Henry and I have been making donations daily to the food bank that my apartment building is sponsoring this month, but it is small comfort. Henry is a lucky pooch. After a rough start, his luck in life changed. I am so happy to do all I can for him. But he is just one animal. There are so many out there needing help. 

 

Breakfast. 

(How is it that I did not notice until now that my favorite store-bought granola is named after my dog?)

Oh Henry!

And now to rouse myself and get going. A brief post-breakfast walk first. In addition to the snow on the ground, it is a windy day out here, in south central Wisconsin! I try out Henry's sweater.

Henry trusts me so completely (really, who else is there in his life to shelter, feed and love him?) that putting on weird (to him) harnesses and doggie sweaters is easy. 

And yes, he is interested in these graceful birds. The retriever in him! I tell my pup that sandhill cranes are off limits.

 

 

 

And now for out bigger outing: Ed comes over, we head out to the Prairie Morraine park. 

Of course Henry loves that Park of Great Freedom!  No sweater needed here. The humans huddle in their parkas, but the dogs work up a sweat! Within seconds, the suspicious snow is transformed for Henry into a Thing of Pleasure. To sniff, jump in and out of, and look fabulous against, what with his black coat!

 

 

 

 

 

 

He has a wonderful time meeting up with other dogs. (One of his favorites -- a three legged pooch who can certainly hold his own, even next to my galloping Greyhound. (Did you know that a sudden fast run in a dog is called the zoomies?) The owners here appear more responsible. Henry is relaxed. It's all so very beautiful!

While we are in this corner of the world, we stop over at Farm and Fleet. Ed needs a new winter coat and this is where he picks one up every few years when the old one wears out. While there, he loads up on cat food, chicken feed, chicken corn and a brick for the hens to nibble on in cold weather. I tell him he has feed for all the animals in his life except for Henry. We throw in a bag of chewies and some reward treats for Henry. As I learned, dogs are welcome in this store. The clerks give them nibbles (with your permission). It's a great opportunity to give Henry another shot at being indoors with lots of strangers.

I am the proudest of proud doggie-moms! Henry is quiet and gently friendly. A dog person stops to chat about his markings. I suggest some elements of a big dog, maybe a Doberman, but she disagrees, staying with the shelter's description of a retriever - lab mix. (We will see!) A guy who looks like he loves Farm&Fleet as much as Ed does comments on Henry's great beauty. Ed tells me -- Henry is a really well behaved dog. He's just perfect. I beam some more!

We come back to the Edge. Ed eats a lunch, I have my midday granola bar, Henry gets his chewie. My two boys nap, I sit back and smile. 

Toward evening, but before the sun sets for the day, I take Henry to the nearby Penni Klein dog park. The one that has a nice long run and never too many dogs. I want to make sure my pup has his fill of movement, especially since this evening, he and I are going over to the young family's house: we've moved Sunday dinner there so both dogs can attend. (I'll cook here, eat there.)

Okay, Henry, let's have a good run so you wont get too wild on your first dinner visit!

 

 

 

Evening dinner time...

I must admit I worried some over this one. Henry and Goose are old buds, but their meetups thus far have mostly been at doggie daycare, where they are allowed to go wild. So how will a play date inside my daughter's house look? 

Actually just fine!

(dogs and Sandpiper, in motion! the poor boy was trying hard to hold back two very strong dogs for the picture.)

 

 

I'd say Henry is the more food obsessed dog.  I was on alert, in case he managed a swipe a piece of seafood, or even spaghetti out of someone's plate. 

 

 

The two pooches got a little over-the-top toward the end. Like children who get overexcited and tired at the same time. But apart from that, they were both awesome.

 

 

As was everyone else! 

Home now. Henry has had a very full day and I am immensely happy with the weekend. His weekend. His and mine. Oh, my dog!

with so much love... 

Henry and me redux

It's ridiculous how humans fawn over their dogs. What must the canines be thinking when these perfectly sane otherwise individuals hug them tightly and whisper sweet nothings in their ears?

 

 

 

You'd think their animals were beyond compare! That their dog excels at love like no other, is smarter than the latest Nobel laureate (they just can't communicate all their wisdom to us), deserving of treat after treat after treat. People, what are you thinking?!

*     *     * 

I found my thrill, on this Squirrel Hill (sorry, Fats Domino, for playing around with the lyrics),

The moon stood still, on this Squirrel Hill, And lingered til, My dream came true...

Why do I even take Henry to this spot of exciting scents and scurrying critters? He is completely transfixed by them.

 

*     *     * 

Henry tested my willingness to get up and out at 4:30 a.m. this morning. I thought about it briefly then rolled over and ignored him. He accepted my dismissal and wet back to sleep for another hour and 25 minutes. So, up at around 6 and judging by his behavior outside, he really was serious about needing to pull me out of bed. Good boy, Henry.

And then we went through the usual routines and they are lovely, with the added benefit that on the weekend I don't turn on the news for my morning hours. I go straight to music. Of the Sarah Vaughn kind.

*     *     *

This was to be a completely "Henry and me" day. No others in it. But I changed my mind at the last minute and decided to take half of last night's home made soup over to the farmhouse. Henry and I stayed outside because I did not want him to freak out the snoozing cats. So instead, he freaked out the chickens.

He was pulling hard to sniff everything and anticipating this, I put him in the stronger harness that wont create sores from all that heaving.  

 

 

 

We canvassed the farmette lands.

While evil Pancake followed with his gaze, waiting for the right moment to claw Henry's eyes out.

 

 

 

(This poor trusting pooch, who just wants to be friends with all the animals. Well, maybe not the squirrels. I do not know what his intentions are with the squirrels.)

 

 

And then I asked Ed to join us on our favorite loop in the local park.

(always the sandhill cranes in this area...)

I've not done it with Henry yet and I feel the pooch needs to be as familiar with our beloved path as we are, if he's going to be a full fledged member of the gang. Our gang.

*     *     *

Did you know that our favorite local hiking park is very, very close to a dog park? We always pass it and comment on the number of cars in the lot (sometimes many, sometimes few). After our park walk (which has to be on leash), I suggest we test this doggie world. The place is for off leash exercise and it's moderately busy today. Henry runs like the wind!

(Next to a Bernese Mountain Dog, Henry looks... small.)

Okay, so Henry has snuggled with me, hiked with both of us, and explored the farmette lands under the evil gaze of Pancake. What's missing? Stranger contact in a new indoor setting! I take Henry and Ed over to Tati's -- the one coffee shop that I know of that actually allows dogs. 

Tati's is a ten minute walk (or 2 minute drive) from the farmette and I've surely been there often enough, but never with Ed. We talk about why that is the case. (He says I never asked!) 

The coffee shop is crowded with a millennial birthday celebration. Or maybe it's a Gen Z group? (They're both rowdy cohorts, don't you think? Ha! I guess this is the 72 year old in me speaking!) It's all rather terrifying to Henry, who sits down stubbornly by the door. No prob! I have the treats! Oh, do I have the treats! Slowly but surely I coax him over to the cafe couch. 

 

 

 

Ed gets us a cinnamon roll and the pooch chews happily on a chew stick I had for him.

(Not sure having him join us on the couch is acceptable doggie behavior, but no one said anything, so there Henry stayed. I took selfies of the two guys to my side -- Henry to the left, Ed to my right.)

*     *     * 

One more walk, this one in the late afternoon,  and just with Henry. In a new to me dog park! Eleven minute drive from the Edge to the Middleton Dog Park (MDP). It's important to do this today because we are getting a blast of very cold, very wet, very Novemberish weather tonight. Who knows where that will land us.

It's nearly dusk and I feel the first drops of drizzle. 

 

 

 

And yet, despite the dreary cold, I'm not the only one at the park. And unfortunately, at least two of the dog owners (Gen Z again!) have absolutely no control over their horrible pooches -- a Corgie and a husky short legged barker.  You'd think Henry could easily outrun those two, but they were relentless and they didn't just bother my sweet boy, they bothered me, with their stubby muddy paws leaving paw prints all over me.

 

 

Henry and I have now visited five dog parks in our three weeks together. We've met terrific dogs and dog owners. And now one or two awful ones. I hope the good ones stay with Henry and the not so good ones are already just a distant memory. Perhaps revisited in those seemingly vivid dreams that dogs have sometimes, but then quickly forgotten again.

*     *     * 

The goal is to move up dinner, move up couch time, move up everything, and perhaps rethink the habit of munching on dark chocolate just before bedtime, all with the goal of giving me a good night's sleep. This is easy to do today, as I haven't kid duty and I have a simple dinner to prepare. And yet, that evening linger on the couch, with this pooch...

 

 

 

... is so very irresistible!

 Oh, Henry -- you do make me smile, again and again and again.

with so much love...