Podium shot: Charlie, Lucy, and Linus on the plow-created snow Mountain next to our driveway
Fayston, Vermont. It has been so cold that the snow left behind by storm Harper complains with squeaks and grumbles under my boots. Just suiting up for a short dog walk down the driveway is an epic adventure. The bundling up and unbundling take as long as the walk.
Linus won’t go outside. He stands on the threshold like an old man caught up in a memory, unsure of the present. I coax him outside with the promise of a cookie.
Charlie rushes out excitedly. But after about a minute, he freezes with one leg in the air as if tagged by an invisible “It.” Slowly, the raised leg lowers and is carefully placed on the ground. A different leg is haltingly held aloft. The deliberate leg exchange is repeated, resembling a dog version of Tai chi.
Lucy runs ahead, clearing the driveway’s giant snow bank in a graceful leap and landing a perfect bellyflop in a pillow of powder. She pops up snow-covered with her goofy golden grin and begs me to throw a snowball. I oblige. Many times.
Satisfied that Linus has relieved himself, we return to the house for cookies, and for me, a cup of hot tea.
Linus says “Nope.”
Charlie doesn’t appear thrilled.
Lucy always manages to find a big stick.
No friends on a powder day.
Charlie in doggles.
Lucy, Queen of Powderhounds
Charlie Brown, Linus, and Lucy
Fayston, Vermont. …Just as long as we have we.” Words from Dr. Suess’ How the Grinch Stole Christmas came to me as I relaxed into a recent late afternoon nap. I was tucked in by labby Linus, who back-spooned into my right side and put his head on my shoulder. Golden Lucy took my left side, and Charlie (aka Lord Wigglebottom) kept my feet warm. I hadn’t slept well for days. Then, after a trip to PT, I was so exhausted I declared a group nap.
I have some health issues that prevent me from sleeping well – and from skiing at all. While I’m going from doctor to doctor and X-ray to X-ray, through the tedious process that our healthcare system has become, I admit I haven’t always felt cheerful or even like leaving the house. Nothing life-threatening is wrong, and my pain is a mostly a result of my active life well-lived, but it still hurts both physically and mentally. However, I’m not allowed to sulk too long as the dogs make me get up and take walks. They remind me when it’s time to eat. They don’t care if I’ve haven’t showered or that I forgot to brush my teeth. I think they know when my pain is bad because they stay extra close, like in our nap.
At that moment when I drifted off to sleep as I was swaddled by my dogs, I felt lucky. Loved. Secure. My pack is with me. We have we.
I hope that you “have we” this holiday season.
P. S. The Ugly Sweater Party to benefit Golden Huggs Rescue at Prohibition Pig in Waterbury, Vermont is ON this Wednesday, December 19th. Pro Pig will donate $1 to GHR for every draft sold. Half price tacos for those wearing Ugly Sweaters, too. The fun begins at 5 pm.
Williston, Vermont. Although the wind gusts persuaded me to not set up my wagmorevt.com photo booth, the rain held off and another CaniCross to benefit Golden Huggs Rescue and Catamount Outdoor Center is now in the books. Dogs of all shapes and sizes came with their people to participate. A local youth cheerleading squad was even on site for encouragement. Special thanks to Long Trail Veterinary Center’s Dr. Ericka Canales for organizing and sponsoring this event.
If you are interested in ordering any prints, please go to my photo website, Rebecca Silbernagel Photo on SmugMug. As I didn’t set up the photo booth, any money I make from the sale of CaniCross prints or products I will donate to Golden Huggs. A 4×6 inch print costs .21¢ and ordering is easy through my site. I’ll leave the sale open for a couple of months. (I don’t usually sell my photos this way.)
We adopted all three of my dogs through Golden Huggs Rescue. I can’t say thank you enough!
Charlie Brown with his band mates Linus and Lucy on a recent winter walk
Fayston, Vermont. Perhaps you’ve made a few resolutions, and you’re still on the wagon. I didn’t make any resolutions. Nope. Can’t break a promise I didn’t make.
Except for this: I vowed to continue the healthy habits I reinstated last year. I started using the gym last fall. I work there, so I should practice what I appear to preach, I thought. I’m now more active because the elliptical machine knows my name. I’ve cut my soda consumption way down, and notice I feel better when I don’t drink it. I’ve made a few other dietary tweaks so that I look and feel better, so there’s my incentive to keep it going. I’ve lost the weight I gained over the summer when my arthritis pain dragged me down, both physically and mentally. The pain is manageable, but still there.
My dogs have helped me keep my healthy habits because they have a keen sense of time and how to live a happy life.
The Pack’s Seven Habits for a Wagtastic Life:
- They remind me when it’s time for a walk. And that a walk at sunrise is beautiful.
- They make time for play. They take time to explore.
- They always know when it’s supper time, and they remind me to eat and to enjoy my food.
- They realize a reward for good behavior is mandatory. But too much of a good thing is too much.
- They insist that regular massages (belly rubs, head rubs, etc.) are necessary for well-being. But they also let me know that bathing and grooming can be skipped, occasionally. (So much time spent on my hair when I wash it every day – it’s o.k. to skip that once in awhile…)
- They know sleep is key to recovery. And that a nap helps pass a rainy day.
- They show and accept affection and gratitude with joy, every day.
If you’re looking for inspiration to make changes in the New Year, look to your furry friends. They will share their wisdom with you, if you listen.