Since Saturday, we have snow! Snow on snow! Snow worth calling snow!
And my dog Llewellyn loves it.
He doesn't care how cold it is, he goes out and chases squirrels from one corner of the yard to the other. While my lunch goes frigid, as I get up again and again and again to go to the back door to check if he's ready to come in yet. Nawyet, Mommee, nawtymecominyet! Nawyetnawyetnawyet!! Gonnagitthaskwurl,yesyesyesyesyes!!
Enter the neighbor girl, Sophie*, who for the past three or four afternoons has dropped by to show me her new snow toys from Christmas. Two new toboggans. A snow brick maker. A snowball maker.
And to play with Llewellyn in my fenced-in back yard. She has dogs, but not a proper fence. And her dogs are runners. So Sophie comes and plays with my pup in the snow, and he likes nothing better.
Every time, I tell her that I have work to do and she can play out back with him by herself. And every time I come out and join the fun, too. And we all stay out till my dog lets me know his toes are getting cold. He lifts a forepaw and hesitates to put it down, then a back paw the same-- All right, that's enough! Time to go in for milk and cookies!
Whereat Sophie spends most of her time petting Llewellyn and cooing over how sooooooffffttt!!! his ears are.
(Well, they are!)
What I can't figure out is how my dog can tell the snowball Sophie has just thrown him from all the rest of the snow so he unmistakingly goes after it and eats it. He's been eating a lot of snow these past days . . . and I wonder if that's why he peed on the dining room floor just as I was sitting down to dinner this evening? He'd been out only two hours before!
1 comment:
Ah, that snow has to come out somewhere... I just had a thought... have you ever tried to train him to go on "piddle pads"? Maybe it would save a mop-up. Sigh.
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