Posts about Ingrid the Labradoodle and Gunter the Chiweenie.
One of my neighbors was snowed in at work, so I agreed to walk his puppy.
Peppito growled at me and refused to leave the kennel. It took three trips and the lure of dog biscuits to get him out.
It’s about 10pm and Halvers and I are 50 feet onto the lake.
The dogs slide on the snow around us. We both have our blackberries out, googling “is the ice on Lake of the Isles safe to walk on?”
Google has nothing for us.
We came across a totem pole during the dog walk.
The bucktoothed one is my favorite, if you couldn’t tell.
The semester is over! Now I am busy working full time at the office and pummeling through the snow with the dogs.
Here’s an outline of what happened these past few months:
It is usually easy to tell when a crazy dog person “animal fan” approaches you at the lake. For example:
The lady in the blue coat has red flags all over her. If someone is already cooing over someone else’s dog, they will likely do the same with your dogs.
It is unrealistic to expect the tenants in my building to suit up to walk their dogs in the middle of the night. What happens is that people let their dogs out in the back lot and watch from the door. Sure there’s the whole “unleashed dog” and “pick up after them” issue, but those are not convincing concerns at 3am with a -20 wind chill.
So every few days I take the shovel to the back lot to pluck the frozen dog-cakes from the snow.
