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.

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.

Walk a country mile

The ice around here has been cruel, but not the winter.

Yet both have taken a hiatus, at least for now.

Since its been a long while, I thought I’d walk a country mile.

My hunger for the smells, sights, and sounds of a rural spring were making me weak this morning.

And though our February thaw’s only a tease, I’ll take it.

I found myself leaving behind tax files on the kitchen table to deal with another day.

That day’s already penciled in for Saturday, when the snow and bitter cold’s expected to return.

After all, we know old man winter’s never been a pushover.

Never too old to be young

She’s lived two years longer than most corgis.

Though my sweet Maddie’s lame.

Last winter she’d fly through the snow with her strong front legs, ignoring those weak ones beind.

But this year’s different.

Her front legs are tired, and her eyes now wear the same expression.

After last night’s snowfall, I broke trail this morning while carrying Maddie outside.

I gently placed my girl down in her favorite spot to ‘take care of business.’

Maddie looked cold and started to shiver, in spite of her heavy dense coat.

I was saddened to see she’s no longer a fan of winter like she’s been each year before.

After leading my shorter haired pups back into the warm kitchen, I returned outside to carry Maddie in to join them.

But I noticed her shivering had stopped.

While I was gone, it seemed Maddie had rediscovered one of her favorites rites of winter.

Catching big, white snowflakes on her tongue.

I quickly joined on in.

How could I not?

I keep hoping Maddie and I will never be too old to be young.