“We should go for a short walk,” he said as he clipped the leash to the dog’s harness. For a moment I was wondering which “we” he was referring to, him and the dog or him and I.
It turns out he was talking about the three of us going. And it turns out short is relative as well.
After half an hour of walking up some fairly steeply inclined ground, Beloved announced we had reached the end point of the walk. As in we go no further. Frankly my feet and knees were pleased with this announcement.
But of course nothing is can stay the same for long. And so it was with the slow realization sinking in to my feet, knees, and heart that I was going to have walk all that way back. And even more disheartening was the thought that what goes up (in this case it was us) must come down (steep incline remember).
By the time we finished our “short” walk, I knew I had over done things, and judging from the way Beloved sunk into the chair once he made it in the house, I knew he had reached his limit too. The only one of us who wasn’t suffering from the walk was the four-footed one.
Next time he says we should go for a short walk I’m going to get specifics. Or remind him of what happened last time.
The four-footed one was investigating something near the flower pots while Beloved was picking mushrooms out of the garden. He had a fairly decent sized harvest when he decided to see what the four-footed one was up to.
Whatever she had found, it wasn’t moving, or at least not quickly. Typically when she finds something that grabs her attention, she pounces. Granted she typically chases after things that move.
It turns out what had her attention did move. Just not quickly. But it did leave behind a glistening trial. Of slime of some sort. Beloved informed me of this as he gathered his harvest and put it all in the bin. After all the mushrooms weren’t the kind for eating.
And the fact that the mushrooms were so prolific in the garden means we really shouldn’t have been surprised by our slow, slime leaving guests. I suspect what was more surprising was that they were slugs, not snails. And that the four-footed one wasn’t interested in catching them or batting them with her paws. She just seemed to want to watch them.
The problem with the four-footed one is that you never know if she’s going to change her mind, so we decided not to take a chance with the slugs and her strange way of making friends–by putting the creature in her mouth. Beloved poured out some beer to capture the slugs and prevent any of them ending up in four-feet’s mouth.
Beloved came home with a tiny box. A nice turquoise box. No, not that kind of box. The kind of box that holds amazing beauties. So beautiful it’s almost a shame that the items inside are edible.
You see there is a cute a little bakery just up the street from us. They use the color boxes because they believe the sky is the limit when it comes to the delicious and delectable items which come from their ovens. I can’t argue with their logic either.
Everything we’ve had so far has been delicious. And just the right size too. None of the huge portions or sized items from North America. Oh no these are dainty little pastries and cookies, in the ideal portion. The bakers trained in France and Austria before returning home to the delight of the locals. Well and also those of us who have decided to stay in the area too!
Even the four-footed one knows delightful items come in these boxes. Not that she gets any of the human food. However one of the owners is a dog lover and has come up with the most tasty (according to the four-footed one) treats for dogs.
So while we enjoyed a nice little something with a coffee, the four-footed one devoured her treat and attempted to try to sneak away with something that was ours!
When I was young, I enjoyed blowing bubbles. There was something fun about watching them rise up in the sky before they’d slowly descend down to land on grass or flowers. I marveled at how they shimmered in the sunlight and were moved by the wind.
Beloved didn’t blow bubbles as a child. It would be a waste of washing soap and water. Plus playing outside was a limited venture for him. And he was a boy, not interested in blowing bubbles so much as checking out adventures in the neighborhood.
So I was a little puzzled when he came home with a bubble blowing kit yesterday. He happily unpacked it, put the wand in the bubble solution and produced lovely, shimmering bubbles. He said he thought the four-footed one would enjoy chasing them. She didn’t.
It seems that she isn’t completely fearless. Bubbles frighten her. She ran behind me, keeping low to the ground.
She kept her eye on the bubbles and Beloved. She herded me towards the house, away from the dangerous bubbles.
Once in the house, she barked fearlessly at the bubbles through the window. Or perhaps she was barking her displeasure at Beloved as he continued to stand outside and blow bubbles.
So I guess the purchase wasn’t a complete loss after all. Not based on the amount of time a certain someone spent outside, blowing bubbles.
The four-footed one decided that no work should be done today. None. Of course she doesn’t work, she sort of plays, eats, sleeps, and observes. She may be a bit spoiled that way.
So today, while I set up to do some work, and Beloved was immersed in his own work, she decided that this was all wrong. She did not want work to be accomplished. Deadlines? Too bad.
She jumped on laps and got in the way of computer work. She pushed books away from the work space. She decided to jump and gently tug on fingers. Anything to ensure work was not accomplished today.
Although it may have been more work to get us to not work than she realized. But in the end, she got what she wanted. We did not work today. We took her out for a car ride in the country. And a visit to a small market. And then a picnic. Followed by more of a ride to head back home. Where in food was needed again. Followed by a walk. And snuggle time.
Sometimes she just knows what really needs to happen, even if we can’t figure it out. Now Beloved may have to do more work tomorrow to make up for today, but at least the creases around his eyes have eased a bit. The hair on his head is sighing in relief as he has stopped running his fingers through it in rapid fashion.
Who knew that they made rain wear for dogs? Obviously some people did. I was not one of those until today. When I headed into the pet store to pick up some food for the four-footed one and found rain coats and rain boots just for dogs!
They even have separate rain hats for dogs too. It is clearly a whole line of items out there. And yes I also found a dog umbrella.
Now the four-footed one hates being wet so I did get her a little rain coat that has the cutest umbrellas on it. The only reason she got the coat is because it has been raining on and off here every day for the past little bit and it has made her walks more like quick dashes out of the house and back in again.
Here’s what I’ve learned about my darling companion and rain gear. The stuff I bought her had an attached hat. She refuses to wear the hat and would sooner have her head wet. Don’t ask because I do not know why she’s so weird.
Second lesson learned. In order to cover the length of her body, the coat had to be bought at a size that is a bit larger than she needed. Which leads me to point three, she would sooner wear loose coats than have them fit her all the way.
The trouble with loose coats is that she ends up getting more wet than she’d like. But they work just well enough for her to decide it is okay to go for a walk while it’s raining.
But the best part of rainy weather is when she comes home. She gets dried off in a big, fluffy towel and then wrapped up in a dry one, which for some reason means she needs to have a nap. Snuggled in a towel while being held on someone’s lap.
So maybe, just maybe, it can rain a bit more!
I can’t explain how much depends on a little, wet nose. There are no words to describe the importance of a little, wet nose in my life.
That little, wet nose wakes me in the morning as it pressing into my arm or cheek. When I open my eyes, that little, wet nose comes into view, followed by warm brown eyes and a wiggling body so full of love and ready to start her day.
That same little, wet nose greets me when I come home from an outing. It pushes into my hand or brushes against my legs as the body attached to it wags and wiggles around waiting to be picked up. Then that little, wet nose is likely pushed against my neck as I get kisses from a warm, pink tongue.
If I am feeling off. that little, wet nose nuzzles up against me the four-footed one curls against me, ready to rest or have a nap.
If the little, wet nose is feeling playful, it will be rubbed back and forth on my arm as if to say, “come on out and play with me”. Or so I like to think. For all I know, that little, wet nose may want to use my arm as a tissue. But I’d rather not think that way if it is all the same to you!
I need little, wet noses in my life!