the dogs of winter

Temperatures in single digits, windchills in the minus mid-teens, and it’s not even winter solstice yet. At least the sun is shining and the snow depth is, so far, manageable. Neither the dogs nor the dog walker enjoyed the mid-day walk today. And next week's temperatures are forecast to return to the lower forties. I have no idea how wildlife adapt to the kind of rollercoaster weather we’ve been experiencing except for those in hibernation or torpor. I’m finding it enough of a challenge figuring out how many of what kinds of layers do I need for a few minutes outside.

Now that we’re back inside after our post lunch walk, both dogs are curled up in their own warm spots and taking a nap. I’d do the same but probably wouldn’t like what I'd find upon awakening. Bored dogs can find strange mischief to get into and they seem to have an ability to tell when their humans are paying the least amount of attention, including taking a nap. We’re still having challenges getting Harry the beagle to settle down in a dog crate. Even with SiSi next door, literally, he tries to escape and complains loudly when he can’t. The adjustments needed aren’t impossible, we’ve done them with other dogs, but they do take time and psychic energy and are more readily undertaken in weather that doesn’t require several minutes to put on warm outdoor clothes.

Harry the chair warmer at work

Photo by J. Harrington

On the other hand, each of the dogs is pleased to hop into my arm chair and keep the seat warm any time I get up to refill my coffee cup. Both of them, especially Harry, seem to think the door bell signals an imminent attack and bark loudly any time it rings, so we’re well guarded in that way. They’re always ready to volunteer to help us with any extra cookies, peanuts, pretzels, chips and the like and have excellent memories about the fact that they get milk bone deserts after the humans have had supper.

As I’m typing this, I look out the window at the suet feeder and can see three fluffed up, puffed up, downy woodpeckers helping themselves to suet and/or sunflower chips. The napping dogs are oblivious to activity at the feeders. Nevertheless, I bet if next week’s temperatures do climb back into the forties, the birds, the dogs, and a dog walker we know will all think that Christmas arrived early this year and brought some wonderful presents that allow unwrapping of the receivers.

Winter

By Billy Collins

A little heat in the iron radiator,

the dog breathing at the foot of the bed,

and the windows shut tight,

encrusted with hexagons of frost.

I can barely hear the geese

complaining in the vast sky,

flying over the living and the dead,

schools and prisons, and the whitened fields.

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