When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. When nature melts your snow, go hiking. Preferably with a dog. Even if it wasn't your choice, but a command from an evil-smart psycho-poodle.
Chloe the standard poodle was demanding to hike this morning. The one-block walk with Noah to the corner bus stop this morning just was not enough for her. She had actually tried to swallow an entire bottle of painkillers, she was so distraught. It might have just been the way the bottle crunched and rattled, but after I took it away from her once, she jumped up on the table to get it again.
Besides toothmarks in Advil bottles, here's my main clue that it's time to go: She comes right up to me at my desk. Looks straight into my eyes, not deeply but observantly. Barks one loud bark. Dog breath wafts over me. Dog breath means it's time to go. I have been well trained by my dog.
Chloe always gets excited when I say "bye-bye car," and will jump right into the car. When it's just a trip to the grocery store and all she does is sit in the back, she's probably disappointed. Every once in a while, however, "bye-bye car" is the invitation to adventure. Like today.
Minnesota Point, out past the airport, is a wonderland for dogs. First, the dunes are great for wide-open romping. Then the trail through the tall pines makes for terrific back-and-forth running. The view through the pines to blue and icy Lake Superior is gorgeous.
So we "bye-bye car"-ed all the way down Minnesota Avenue to the airport.
Got out of the car.
No, I did not run. Psycho-poodle ran plenty for both of us. The snow in the pine forest was hard-packed after the rain and refreezing. There is a leash law, but we were all alone out there, so I ignored it. Who's going to stop all this fun?
Now that my training is complete, I anticipate a lot more dog breath in the mucky spring days ahead.