We are still covered in snow here.
Though it is clear above us, we have a chilly fog that is helping the snow remain crunchy and keeping the Suzie Cube and I holed up at the cottage.
She's a sweet little ride, and I love her, but she is not exactly suited to road conditions like this :
I finally HAD to get out for groceries, so my sister-in-law came to my rescue. I walked down the lane to the main road and she gave me a ride to town.
I saw live people!
And purchased staples. All is well.
I trudged home carrying my two bags of food. The dogs were waiting for me in their dog pen outdoors.
Speaking of dogs and outdoors...
I have been letting the dogs out one at a time in the morning, hoping they would be more likely to stay near the house. Sunny went out and did what she needed to do, and came right back inside. Then it was Ben's turn. Ben saw a blue jay and decided to give chase. He went straight up into the woods and was gone for 45 minutes.
Me? I blew the dog whistle, hollered for him and blew the dog whistle again.
No Ben.
I alternated between anger and angst until I couldn't take it any more. Instead I waxed philosophical. Ben is a dufus in the woods. He gets lost all the time. I live in the woods. Ben is going to either decide he wants to be part of the pack, or be on his own, lost in the woods. Dogs can make decisions too. That's what I told myself.
Well, eventually, he showed up, panting hard and looking a bit uncertain about how he would be received.
I just opened the back door and invited him in. I didn't say a word. I just put his dog food bowl in front of him and he ate his breakfast.
Then we had a quiet talk about pack dynamics and choices. During this intimate moment, I discovered that his feet were bloody. He had torn the undersides of his claws where they connect to the pads of his feet in the cold icy snow. Sunny commenced licking Ben's feet. I continued the quiet talk about pack dynamics and the price of 'going it alone'. He then went into the bedroom and fell asleep.
I noticed when I let them out a little while ago, that he is walking gingerly when he has to get in the snow.
I am afraid I wasn't too sympathetic. I hoped every step reminds him that….. there's no place like home.
I finally HAD to get out for groceries, so my sister-in-law came to my rescue. I walked down the lane to the main road and she gave me a ride to town.
I saw live people!
And purchased staples. All is well.
I trudged home carrying my two bags of food. The dogs were waiting for me in their dog pen outdoors.
Speaking of dogs and outdoors...
I have been letting the dogs out one at a time in the morning, hoping they would be more likely to stay near the house. Sunny went out and did what she needed to do, and came right back inside. Then it was Ben's turn. Ben saw a blue jay and decided to give chase. He went straight up into the woods and was gone for 45 minutes.
Me? I blew the dog whistle, hollered for him and blew the dog whistle again.
No Ben.
I alternated between anger and angst until I couldn't take it any more. Instead I waxed philosophical. Ben is a dufus in the woods. He gets lost all the time. I live in the woods. Ben is going to either decide he wants to be part of the pack, or be on his own, lost in the woods. Dogs can make decisions too. That's what I told myself.
Well, eventually, he showed up, panting hard and looking a bit uncertain about how he would be received.
I just opened the back door and invited him in. I didn't say a word. I just put his dog food bowl in front of him and he ate his breakfast.
Then we had a quiet talk about pack dynamics and choices. During this intimate moment, I discovered that his feet were bloody. He had torn the undersides of his claws where they connect to the pads of his feet in the cold icy snow. Sunny commenced licking Ben's feet. I continued the quiet talk about pack dynamics and the price of 'going it alone'. He then went into the bedroom and fell asleep.
I noticed when I let them out a little while ago, that he is walking gingerly when he has to get in the snow.
I am afraid I wasn't too sympathetic. I hoped every step reminds him that….. there's no place like home.