My little watch dog

Winter was particularly ruff for my little handsome man, Rex.

Life in the snow belt is often a cruel and slippery slope.

And this year even more so for a 7 pound pup who hails from Alabama.

Rex is typically a trooper, but the towering ice coated snow drifts were already wearing him down by the time a mid April blizzard hit.

My boy grew anxious, chewing on his dog tags in frustration.

But Rex is doing better now.

He has returned to his cozy loveseat on the sun porch where he naps to the cardinals’ spring serenade each day after breakfast.

Though I do catch an open eye on occasion. Rex remains very focused on the one remaining snowdrift next to our shady garage.

My little watch dog wants to make sure it continues to melt.

For that matter, so do I.

Advertisements

That’s some bunny!

“Some bunny thinks she’s the Easter bunny,” I told my tiny pup Junie B. this morning.

She responded with a little snort and what looked to be a laugh.

We’d awakened not too bright and early to the sounds of snow plows sailing down our street after yet another snow storm.

Junie B. was thinking we should start our Easter Party today after tearing open a bag of Easter basket goodies.

“What do you think about going to the sunrise Easter service tomorrow morning down at the beach?” I asked her. “It could be a little chilly with that 12 degree low by morning.”

I don’t know if Junie B. understood me.

But I do know for sure that Junie B. growled as she ran back to the crate and quickly slammed the door.

I think our long winter may be getting the best of both of us.

And believe me that’s no April Fool’s joke.

I saw the light

While hiking up a steep hill near me yesterday, I was thinking what a long winter it’s been.

But then aren’t they all?

The hill’s a popular one for sledding and has been a busy place this past week after a couple of back to back snow storms.

But Saturday it was empty except for me, the sun, and the trees swaying in the breeze.

It seemed most of the neighborhood children had set aside their sleds, and were busy dusting off their bicycles.

Others were already riding them through the growing puddles in the streets below.

As I stood and faced the sun shining down on the hill, I smelled the musty earth melting below my boots.

And I soon felt March’s blush of warmth on my winter weary face once again.

I even heard a flock of song birds sing a promise of spring as they flew overhead.

Sure, there’s another big snow storm coming here tomorrow, but I know spring is on the way.

How do I know?

Because yesterday I know I saw the light.