Shedding Season

Fayston, Vermont (May 16, 2021) Although not yet coming out in tufts, my dogs Lucy, Charlie Brown, and Linus have begun their seasonal coat shedding. Like me swapping out the heavy down coat for a lighter one, then the puffy vest, then trading that for a sweatshirt for our morning walk as spring temperatures (finally) warm, the dogs blow coat progressively. They begin to shed on their backside first, then up to the neck, then clumps and tufts everywhere. I use a “furminator” brush to remove their winter undercoat. Linus’ expelled short blonde hair sticks to everything, and I take care to dress for work in my dark suit only moments before I leave the house, pulling the belt of my trench coat tight against airborne dog glitter.

Charlie and Lucy are extra fluffy right now. Along with their winter hair, these two need to shed a couple of pounds gained from not as much exercise and an abundance of cookies during the winter months. We took our morning walk, and often an evening walk (totaling three to four miles a day) but still the cookies won. Soon, my work schedule will change and we can all play outside together more often. I don’t know that I gained any weight, but I definitely feel that my fitness level has dropped from sitting at a desk all day. So, another layer will be shed.

A couple of days ago, I shed one more thing: My mask. Our governor in Vermont lifted the mask wearing protocol for fully vaccinated people, following the newest CDC guidelines. I still carry a mask in my pocket. To be walking around without wearing a coat or a mask makes me feel lighter, yet exposed. I’m not worried about germs as I still keep my distance from others, but every wrinkle and spot on my face are now outed. I can’t wait to have bangs cut back into my hair so at least I’ll have some hair curtains to hide behind. My mask-less reentry into the world will be progressive like the dogs’ shedding – a little bit at first, then a bit more, until, eventually, I’ll feel comfortable hugging again. Well, maybe. I’ve never been much of a hugger. But, I’ll shed my social anxiety in increments of puffy layers as I blink in the warm sunshine, out for a walk with my less fluffy companions.

WAIT

dogs, vermont

Linus, in the back, with Charlie Brown and Lucy

FAYSTON, VERMONT. The “wait” command is a struggle for Linus, my lab/hound mix. He should be named “Hoover” as he quickly sucks up any crumb that drops on the floor. At feeding time, I have him sit. We are working on the “wait” command so that I can put the bowl down before he inhales his meal.

Charlie the spanador learned “wait” almost immediately. Goldie Lucy is not as patient as Charlie, but she has learned to wait, begrudgingly. Linus continues to make slow progress.

Vermont’s “stay home” order is posing a “wait” challenge to my household. Our change to grocery shopping for the week instead of on a whim was an adjustment, and it means that sometimes we are out of bananas as we accumulate a list.

Sugarbush’s abrupt closure then ban on uphill travel grounded – like a privileged but nonetheless punished teenager kind of grounded – my husband. His metaphorical keys were taken away because he was found guilty by association. He now divides his time between restless puttering and Netflix. He and his coworkers have exchanged many texts about when they can return to work. With some restrictions on outdoor construction just lifted, his wait is over soon.

I am 110% an introvert, so the stay home order has been highly restorative. I have been going into the office a few hours each week and done some work from home, but I’ve had more free time. It’s been glorious.

Since the start of the self-confinement order about a month ago, I read several books, started and finished knitting a sweater, and took so many long walks with the dogs that my resting heartrate has dropped 9 bpm. (It was in the high 50’s; now in the high 40’s, so I’m basically dead. The dogs are happy-tired.) I also cooked enough food to feed the entire neighborhood. In our first week of confinement, hubby banned me from the kitchen for 24 hours after I cooked a huge casserole of baked ziti that we ate for days.

Despite being content at home, I’m also struggling with “wait.” I long to see color return to the landscape, to see yellow flowers and green grass and blue sky and (distant) black bear cubs and orange efts … I’m waiting for spring.

Rite of Spring

dogs, humor, pets, vermont

Charlie Brown

5:05 am Open eyes. Roll over and squint at clock. Stiffly thunk-thunk down the stairs to the kitchen.

5:10 am Flip on lights. Open dog crates. Weave through excited tails to open sliding back door. And they’re off to do dog things.

5:15 am Make coffee. Measure out dog food. Leave Linus’ bowl on the floor as he’s always the first one back for breakfast. Let Lucy inside, and put her food down.

5:35 am Realize Lucy ate her food AND Linus’. She’s sleeping it off under the dining room table. Call Linus and Charlie. Weird that they’re not back.

5:36 am Let Linus and Charlie inside and feed them.

5:37 am Pour that first cup of coffee and turn on the tv news. Sip slowly.

5:45 am WHAT’S THAT SMELL?!

5:46 am Send Charlie outside, locked on the deck. Back to coffee.

6:00 am Search for goretex pants, rubber garden clogs, cleaning gloves, and dog shampoo. Dress for bathing battle.

6:13 am Turn on the hose. Call Charlie, who’s now hiding. Bribe him with a treat as I put him on his leash.

6:20 am Bath time for Charlie!

6:30 am Peel off goretex and rubber layers. Eat breakfast.

So, how was your morning?

Charlie Brown in a dandelion field, Waitsfield, Vermont

Lucy & Linus pose at Sugarbush Resort Golf Club, where some of my greetings cards are for sale in the Pro Shop. We were trying to make a dog-golf photo for a card. Need more leaves on the trees, I think.

YAWN from Linus

What All The Best-Dressed Dogs Are Wearing, Spring 2019 Edition

dogs, humor, pets, vermont

Linus, Charlie Brown, and Lucy sit for a photo during a recent walk in our woods.

What’s your go-to look for spring? As I sift through my closet for a cheerful floral something, I realize that my dogs have it all figured out: Perennial polka dots are Linus’ favorite, while Lucy likes fresh thigh-high stockings and the effortless straight-from-the-shower look. Charlie has mastered bed-head with a crust of something striping his coat.

It is mud season in Vermont. That glorious time when the world is one big puddle over a layer of decaying leaves and other unidentifiable matter. The mud is slick, thick, and smelly. My dogs are stoked.

The daily fashion show runway formerly my driveway features Linus wearing mud polka dots and dark socks. Lucy probably showered him with spots as she shook, making sure black dots were dispersed all over Linus’ light yellow hair. Lucy struts about sporting a more abstract print paired with her pond soaked golden locks. She leaves a gleeful trail of wet, muddy paw prints everywhere, like a flower girl tossing petals. Sweet Charlie resembles a tousled hair muppet exuberantly infusing the air around him with his latest eau de toilette creation.

Their enthusiasm for these spring looks remind me that it is too soon for white shoes. As for the leopard print trend, with enough paw prints, my once plain jeans have become fashionable. Sometimes, I miss the snow.