My dog follows me everywhere and watches everything I do. At times I have found myself tripping over him during the haste of my daily rituals. I try to tell my puppy to chill over in a corner and chew some of his puppy toys, but be can’t be bothered with nonsense. He wants to be in the know. He has to be first on the scene of a breaking news story, even if the story involves my braking a nail. He can be completely comatose laying in a sun spot from an open curtain in one room and leap across the house in pure ninja fashion if he hears an unusual noise. I truly believe that this dog never fully sleeps. He either is suffering form a deep doggie neurosis or panics from a sleeping disorder. There are times I have wanted to install a spy-cam in his room to see wether or not he truly sleeps through the night. Or he just fakes it and lies in his doggie bed surrounded by one eyed stuffed animals staring at him. The reason I don’t think he sleeps during the night is because he flat out “zones” during the day. Now, he has either found his way into my stash of xanax or he truly is tired around high noon. I think I found out what is really bothering him. His budding weenie. He is spending countless hours with his nose in between his hind legs doing his business whatever his business is. I guess it’s His business. We have been instructed to let him be during these moments but I find it highly offensive. At first I thought it was snow irritation to his sensitive underbelly, because Charly is forced to poop on four feet of snow. We have all shoveled a pathway for him but he still chooses the high road and scales Mt. Etna in the driveway. He got stuck halfway up the snow mountain and could not figure out how to go forward or turn around and head back down. So he just hung there with his front paws digging into the ice and his tail end suspended with his back feet peddling an invisible bicycle. I ran over to help him, three torpedos dropped onto the snow below each the size of a Tootsie Roll that can be shared between three adults. I was laughing so hard I neglected to see the patch of black ice under my boot and landed on my backside nearly sliding into Charly’s war zone. Since we have had this three day blizzard in our state we have had to dig lengthy trenches for our dog to scamper about without getting buried in the snow. Thank God for the big black spots on his back that make him visible in this Dr. Zivago Land. My son decided to get creative and burrow a hole in one of the massive mounds on the drive so Charly could have a” short cut” through his doggie maze. He enjoyed this cave so much he wouldn’t come out. Which meant someone had to go in. We drew icicles. I lost. I got down on my stomach in the freezing snow and headed toward the hole which had a diameter of about 15 inches. Everything would have worked had I done the logistics before I entered and realized that my snow jacket plus ME wasn’t going to fit. I was stuck. I was stuck in a makeshift Ice cave with my hind legs pointing north screaming at my son to get a shovel. Thank God my head could poke out the entrance to be able to view the comforting scene in front of my eyes: My son and Charly bent over in hysterics….”Just you wait till I get my hands on you both……” I yelled in anger.
Maybe by spring after the snow thaws…….