No matter what the weather, daily walks are a must for Molly. She is usually reluctant to leave the fireplace, (even though she’s a German Shorthaired Pointer, I mean she should love the cold,) but once we actually get outside, she seems excited by the novelty of the snow. When she gets too far ahead of me, I call her back, and she trots up to me and then turns and runs away again. I, too, am enjoying the snow, except that it tends to collect on the tip of my nose as we walk. It collects on Molly’s nose, too. She stops and turns to look at me, and I think for a moment that a snowflake has settled on each of her eyebrows, then realize that it is only her eyebrows beginning to grey. This saddens me for a moment. In the dictionary of my mind, there is a picture of Molly under the definition of “beloved.” But she quickly cheers me by jumping a fence. There are deer tracks on the other side, and her nose starts working.
“Hup,” I encourage, and she jumps back over. We continue on our way.
Back inside, it looks like all the cats have simultaneously died in front of the wood-stove. Molly happily joins them.
Once again, it’s that time of year when we have to stay on top of water duty for the poultry and rabbits, as it freezes fairly quickly. I’m always a little reluctant to head out into the cold in the evening and make sure every animal is set for the night. But waiting inside is always the pleasure of a warm fireplace and a good dog.