The dogs and I went for a walk this morning for the first time in a couple of days. Hard to face -22 and a windchill, no matter how furry the hood is. Even Abby, she of the abundant energy and love of running running running, wasn't too keen to be out.
You know it's cold when you have to walk out with the dogs to the field to make sure they poop. Otherwise, they dash out, do as little as possible and dash in again.
I've just finished writing an essay for an anthology about food, wrote about my dogs so it seems like dogs and food are all about what goes into a dog and what comes out of them.
In country, with these two, it's poop in AND poop out.
But anyway, we were talking about walking, not pooping (although I noticed on our walk this morning that the deer poop in the field is frozen, which will upset Stella), and it was nice to go for a long walk in the woods and the snow again.
I'm like this squirrel; as long as I'm bundled up and can keep my back to the wind, I'm pretty content to walk along, thinking my thoughts and listening to the sound of the snowflakes falling from the sky.
No comments:
Post a Comment