Tuesday, 30 November 2010
Experiencing a walk in the snow differs according to which dog is with me. The whirling, bouncing, leggy labrador would stay outdoors in joyful celebration of sticks in the snow till we both froze. She would freeze but not notice, of course. I come home when I can't feel my feet any more.
For Tosca, with her short legs, it's not so much fun. She does like to go out, and skips along for a while, but.....
Four doors down: can we go and see Auntie Lesley now? No, we're going for a walk.
Five doors down: can we see Auntie Suzy then? No....
Ok. A walk it is. Quite nice, really, this walk. Well-trodden snow.
Round the corner.... and students are throwing snowballs.
Flossie would like to join in. Tosca wouldn't. We cut up the back lane to avoid them, past the dustbins. The snow is deeper here.
The beloved giant stick is getting heavier with snow, but it has to come home with us.
Tosca's tummy doesn't clear the snow here.
Oh, it's our own back lane! Can we go home now? Yes. Off you go. Run! Hop! Plod!
We reach home, and let Tosca in to thaw out her undercarriage in the warm house. She's had her walk for this afternoon, thank you.
But Flossie and I turn round again, and go out for a proper walk, one where we can come home frozen, foot-numb, but still bouncing and joyful, still wielding the giant stick.
Posted by rachel at 09:23