Less angst, more fun

So this morning I resolved to walk them separately.  Rosie was not happy to be left behind, but Doug was home, and his friend Steve, who was visiting, so she was fine.

Angus and I set out at about 6:30 a.m., two degrees above zero, the sky in the east a pale peach, the snow pale blue, not a soul around. As we walked, the sky lightened, the snow brightened, the sun came up.

Angus grabbed his leash once or twice, and went for my hands (oh, the hands!), but mostly without the distraction of Rosie (not that I am blaming her; I am not) he did much better and trotted along nicely.

It is adorable to see how fascinated he is by dry leaves skittering along the top of the snowbank, or sprigs of dead grass poking through. Somewhere, I have no idea where, he found a long red plastic straw, and he carried it proudly for several blocks before dropping it when something else caught his eye.

He is sprightly and spunky and fascinated by the world.

This evening, though, after a long day at work, and Doug off with his buddies, the idea of two separate walks was far less appealing. I got the brilliant idea of spraying both leashes, top to bottom, with Bitter Apple, and I squirted my gloves for good measure, and then I stuffed a puffy toy in my pocket in case Angus needed something to chew, but it was all for naught. The first two blocks of the walk were manic, worse than last night, with Angus grabbing Rosie's leash, and his own, and when I handed him the toy, he ignored it and went right for my gloves, pulling one off my hand.

I made him sit and I told him walk, even though he doesn't yet know that command, and miracles do happen because suddenly he settled down and trotted along nicely for the rest of the stroll. The evening felt so charmed I was sure we would see an owl and a fox (and maybe an owl with a fox) but we saw nothing, not a soul, even though it was a beautiful windless night, 11 degrees, with a glowing half-moon above.

And now he is gnawing like mad on a knuckle bone, and I am trying to stay awake (and keep him awake) so that I don't have to get up at midnight again.

I do wish you could all have seen him playing with Rosie about a half hour ago--they both got more wound up than I've seen in a while, and Rosie was leaping from the couch to the floor, into a play bow, around in a circle, up onto the couch, back down to her play bow, it was mad, it was fast, it was hilarious, and Angus was hiding under the easy chair, poking his head out and barking and then retreating again like a turtle in a shell.

And then the wrestling, for a long time. I swear there is nothing happier than watching two dogs play.