Thursday, November 10, 2011

Harley's First Snow

My husband and I grew up with winter, as did our Black Lab mix, Dozer. Our handsome rescued Papillon, Harley, came to us from Texas this past April.

As the weather cooled and autumn promised winter, my husband and I speculated on Harley's reaction to his first snow. We laughed in anticipation of Harley's confusion and surprise as he discovered cold white winter. When I looked out the window this morning, I quietly slipped a camera into my coat pocket, preparing to capture the moment on my morning walk with Harley.

Pocketing the leash and a couple baggies for any mess he might deposit along the way, I invited Harley on our morning walk like today was just another day. And Harley rose to the occasion.

With no other dogs in sight, Harley walked without his leash. Staying within the familiar and defined space of the wet concrete sidewalk, he sniffed at the strange white stuff covering the lawn, perhaps touching his nose briefly to the icy cold. He walked east. He sniffed and strolled at his usual pace, staying to the sidewalk, until we got to the 4th house on our block. Turning south in the walkway leading to the neighbor's front porch, Harley sniffed the shriveled flowerbeds. He turned, backing tushy-first over the plants, and did his business, keeping all 4 paws on the sidewalk ...

... then ran back toward our house at full speed, leaping up the steps of our front porch and skidding to a stop at the front door.
I laughed.

Every morning Harley is a languishing walker, expecting an extended route, several blocks of sniff and stroll. Today, in the snow, he was efficient in the space of a few adjoining front yards, getting back to the front porch a full 40 feet in front of me.

This is when I got out the camera, as Harley waited on the front porch, looking longingly at the front door, then back at me.

I could almost hear him saying, "Gitty up!"

Good people take good care of their animals, 
but the wicked know only how to be cruel.

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