Furry Hurry
It’s unseasonably cold inside the house this weekend. A good time to stay snuggled warm under the covers. Uh oh, I hear the clattering of his nails on the tile floor. Here comes the pup, bounding into the room and jumping onto the bed. He’s anxious to get outside where it’s colder. I can’t blame him, for a mammal covered in fur; cool weather must feel quite comfortable. How did he know I was awake? I didn’t make a sound. Maybe he heard me pull the covers over my head.
Guess I have to get up and take the boy for a walk. NOW! He is glaring at me. Look at him shaking with eagerness. “Come on Mom; get moving” is clearly the message he is projecting as his tail wags in full rotations. He adds a few short whimpers for emphasis. We only get four or five crisp exhilarating dog-romping days a year.
Let me get up so I can go pee. As I enter the bathroom he looks out of the window to confirm that the grass is still crowned with frost. He bursts through the door to see if I am done doing my business so he can get outside to do his. Geez, he’s really impatient today. I decide to wear sweat pants over my pajama bottoms and a long sleeved cotton tee on top. I wrap a scarf around my neck, and then add my bulky hooded fleece lined sweatshirt to complete my ensemble. Layers are the key to staying warm, unless you have that full coat of body fur thing going on. I slip on heavy socks, all weather-hiking boots, cell phone; keys in my pocket and off we go.
In the fenced yard, even though I am ready to put on his leash, he runs zig zags at full speed. I wait patiently, and then ask, “Do you want to go for a walk or what?”
“Yes, pant, pant I’ll be still, but hurry up,” I read his look.
With the leash attached we proceed out the gate toward the sidewalk for our normal morning route. As I walk, I realize that I’m not cold. I’m roasting like baked chicken. I unzip my top coating. I went a tad overboard with the layers. Even though it’s February and 8:00 A.M. it’s a comfortable 55 degrees in sunny Florida. What had I been thinking? I relied too heavily on my dog’s weather forecasting skills. At least HE seems to be suitably dressed.