St. Angus

He's not really a saint. But it does look like he has a halo.

 The fluffy, pristine 14 inches of snow that fell on Monday has shrunk and hardened with two days above freezing. The moisture has evaporated out of it and we are left with shorter piles that are crusted over with ice. Now that the cold is settling in again, our back yard sidewalk is bumpy ridges of grey ice and the pathways we snowblowed through the drifts for the dogs to race through are as hard and slick as a bobsled run.

We need more snow. We are not getting more snow.

The yard is not a hospitable place now, and it is causing a setback in housebreaking--after days with no accidents in the house, Angus is regressing. And it's hard to blame him. Who would want to leave a warm cozy nest of fleece for a blast of cold air and hard, slick ice in order to do one's crouch?

We put him outside and he turns and runs back to the porch. He has figured out all kinds of ways to get up the barricaded steps. and he long ago blasted through the left-hand square of screen on our screen door, making his own little cat door that Rosie cannot fit through.

I stand out there until I am shivering, waiting, and sometimes he complies and sometimes he doesn't. Which is why he is back in his crate right now.

"This hula hoop isn't all that scary but give me a treat anyway."

 But, that said, he had a great day yesterday. A walk with Doug and Rosie and me (on bumpy ice, but nobody fell), and then puppy class, where he got to show off his sit and down and stay, and then the teacher brought out all kinds of awkward, bulky, potentially scary-to-puppies objects and strewed them around the floor. Each dog had to navigate each object three times--crutches and umbrellas and hula hoops and walkers and baby strollers and tarps that made crackling noises when stepped on.

Puppies go through two fear periods, the teacher said, and the first is when they are between about 8 and 16 weeks old--exactly where Angus is now. (He will be 12 weeks on Tuesday.) During those fear periods, they either develop fears that can last their entire lives, or they learn to overcome each fear, one by one. And so she pushed a walker through the scrum of puppies and we gave them treats like mad, and each dog had to sit and lie down inside a hula hoop (no problem for Angus), and, the very best, they got to race through a tunnel.

"No problem. But give me a treat anyway."

 Some dogs wouldn't go in the tunnel, but Angus loved it. I see agility training in his future!

Rosie had liked the tunnel too, back in the day.

He was only nervous around two things: the baby stroller, and the walker, though with the teacher reaching through the walker to hand him treats he soon came around.

And then we walked home, carefully, along the grey icy sidewalks, and in the interest of trying to meet 100 new people a week he met three more: my brother, his wife, and their granddaughter.

Meanwhile, digestive problems continue (hello, 1 a.m.! Hello, 4 a.m.!) and tomorrow morning he sees Dr. J. The appointment is for a distemper booster shot, but we will discuss his innards as well. I fear he's getting skinny.