AND THE DIGGING LED TO THIS
AND TO THIS
My Dunany Demons took a holiday yesterday. It was so mild; perfect conditions to rid the gallery of its mountains of snow and undercoat of thick ice. The recent regularity of heavy storms here had left me far behind on shoveling duty. After lunch, I put business on hold, and prepared to get the job done.
The doggies spun around me in excited delirium as I donned the appropriate outdoor apparel. They know my pockets hide the squeaky balls and they found I was taking too darned long to tie my boots. I had no sooner opened the gate and they were scrambling down the stairs, practically tripping over each other, eyes on the prizes. I had thrown the balls into the yard immediately on exiting the house. Their wild energy on the slippery, uneven surface of the gallery was high potential for injury.
I enjoyed the physical workout. Equipped with the proper shovels and scrapers and ice breakers, I took my time, chopping the pieces so they could be pushed under the railing instead of having to lift them up and over. Every 45 minutes or so I would take a break; sometimes forced breaks caused by my two companions who, even if they have acres of land to play on, insisted on running up and getting underfoot! It’s true that they kept losing their balls in the deep snow. More often than not all I could see of Smooch would be his back end and tail as he dug deep, attempting to extract his toy from a huge snow bank.
Grump had an appointment with the vet for 7:20 PM. Smooch is not used to staying alone, but I couldn’t find my second leash, and that dog is still vet-hyper, so home alone it would be. I sneaked Grump out the front, gave Smooch a toy, then ran down to drive my truck from the garage. Once outside, I called Grump, and called, and called....but he didn’t show. What was going on? He never fails to come when called!
I backed my truck as close to the wall of snow that I could, and climbed up onto the bank to see the front part of the house. There was my dog, standing on the galley.
“Hey! What are you doing? Come here, Grump!” I yelled at him. Nope. He wagged his tail, but he wasn’t moving. I started towards him and whump! I sank into the snow up to my butt. Grump sat and watched me struggle and wriggle to get free. Now I understood his refusal to come. My oldest pit likes his comforts; no way would he put himself in such a position. I glanced up at him; his expression was definitely a “Better you than me” look.
The end result was, after getting out of there, my boots and jeans full of cold, wet snow, I had to run back upstairs to let the stubborn mutt come inside and down through the garage, which of course upset Smooch who was being left behind, which is what I was trying to avoid in the first place!
Grump has 3 growths to remove, blood blisters that are unsightly but not dangerous unless they bleed. It was an in and out visit; just an analysis before the operation, and Grump is such a docile and obedient doggie, well loved by the people who work there. Within 90 minutes we were back home, comforting a worried Smooch, then the 3 of us vegged in front of a roaring fire.
Inertia set in early. The doggies opened an eye each when I left them sprawled on their couches and headed to my own bed. I snuggled deep under the blankets, sent up a heartfelt ‘Thank You’, and welcomed Morpheus with a SMILE.
Luv from the Bush in Quebec.
No comments:
Post a Comment