By Fred Prout
When you are adopted by a dog you quickly learn that you get many benefits. Companionship, unconditional love and an opportunity to take walks. Sometimes many walks.
Rule #1 in the dog parenting manual is the importance of setting a schedule. Times to eat, times to play times to go outside and get it done. The advantage to the human part of the equation is that by rigorously staying on schedule, it allows you to make the best use of the remaining hour and fourteen minutes in the day.
However, there are two occasions when your dog’s waste elimination systems go horribly wrong.
#1 The sound of a sports event on TV,
#2 Cold weather
Tie score, third and goal ? Forget it. The whining, pacing and desperation eyes win out every time. That is if you are a decent compassionate human being and don’t own a carpet cleaner. Outside NOW!
Which brings us to cold weather.
Cold weather changes a dog’s sniffing mechanism. The place where they always killed or fertilized the grass is just plain wrong now. Gotta sniff every blade of grass and nose every pebble to find the right place. ”Take your time.I’m in no hurry.”
We just came in from our first walk of the day. It’s thirty three degrees outside and I’m freezing my yes off. (A recognized medical condition whereby it is impossible to say the word yes for at least four hours)(Very severe cases have resulted in altered male vocal ranges)
I’m not sure when I became a cold weather wuss but it wasn’t that many months ago (ok at least six hundred) that I welcomed cold weather as an opportunity to go skiing. I started waxing my skis in July in anticipation. I loved it.
Before we met, Rita had never had the opportunity to experience the exhilaration of the slopes. So a new adventure for both of us.
Now, before you go to the mountain you need the appropriate clothing and equipment. Rental equipment for beginners is the best bet,but clothes? It’s true that guys do not have the same eye for fashion as girls. When Rita wanted a white ski suit, I had to gently and lovingly explain that with her beautiful white hair and lovely pale complexion she could become lost in a snow flurry until spring. So black it was.
So off to Okemo mountain in Vermont. It is said that the name Okemo is native for
“ Let’s watch these idiots break some bones “.
After a few lessons on the basic things to do and the one thing to NEVER do, she was ready to solo.
She got in line for the easy hill and I went for a less easy one. As I was ascending, I looked down and saw an almost invisible person in a black outfit happily lying on her back making snow angels and yelling what I took as words of encouragement and hopes that I would have a wonderful downhill ride.
I may have misunderstood her words and gestures.
The last run of the day we went downhill together. Unfortunately, one of the unsupervised little &)++”#/s cut in front of her and she panicked. She started to barrelass (Norwegian for going very fast) down the hill missing the ski patrol by two feet. Fortunately he was too shocked and too busy checking his clothing to pursue us.
Over the years we skied many times.I loved it and she tolerated it so she could do something with me and make me happy. How great is that?
Fred and Rita