As if I don’t have enough drama in my life with three teenagers, I am blessed with a dog with theatrical abilities that would make Lassie jealous.
This morning we had to brave frigid temperatures and about 3″ of snow at the dog park, but undaunted we grabbed a ball and a chuck-it and off we went.
In conditions such as these her paws tend to get gummed up with great balls of ice between the pads, but I know from past experience that she’s quite capable of letting me know. True to form this morning she ran for a while and then suddenly she tucked her tail between her legs, hung her head and hobbled back to me with a look of tragic suffering on her face. I asked her if her paws were sore and she rolled over onto her back so that she could show me the extent of the damage.
Those little balls of snow don’t pick out easily – they melt much more readily. So I said to the poor stricken creature “Okay, let’s go back to the car then”. At which she bounced up, with tail a wagging and ears a perking, and frolicked back to the car with all the energy and enthusiasm of a puppy.
And I thought I suffered from mood swings!