My grandson just got a new dog. She is a yellow lab, about a year old. What energy! She just can't understand why my old dog, Betsy, won't play with her all day. Betsy will fetch her ball a few times, but then it's nap time. New dog bounds around the yard like a deer chasing whatever moves.
I started remembering my dogs. My first dog, Chum, was a springer spaniel. I was just a toddler, I can hardly remember her, but I have pictures of my dad holding me as I sat on her. The next dog I remember was Judy, a ranch dog that had been bitten on the mouth by a rattlesnake. When we lived in Minnesota, we had a beagle. She was such a hunter! When I walked her in the city park, she would find a rabbit trail and be off like a flash. The only way I could catch her would be to stand on the trail and grab her as she went by. Some years later, my daughter had a dachshund terrier mix--built like a dachshund but had the coat of a terrier. We named him Napolian, even though he was little he wasn't scared of anything. He would chase a Great Dane if the opportunity arose. When the kids left home, somehow or other I ended up taking care of their pets. The first dog I could actually call my own is my sweet Betsy, black lab, Queensland heeler mix. She broke her back leg when she was just a puppy so now has some arthritis. She is a calm, happy dog. We get along together fine--a little bit of exercise, play a little bit, and take naps.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
It’s that time of year when winter has just about run its course, but it’s still too cold for spring. I'm tired of not being able to keep the windows open, anxious to plant some flowers, but I still have to wait. Its too warm for soup, but too cold for salad. When I get up in the morning, the sky is beginning to lighten, so the days are getting longer. If I can just be patient for another month, the desert will start to wake, shake off the dust of winter, and put on its spring finery.