You would have thought we had a near catastrophic event with Duke and Rachel today. The dog was snoozing, which is what he does almost all day long now, when Rachel crawled along the floor, and used the sofa where he was napping to pull her self up. Startled, Duke yelped, jumped up, and landed on the world's loudest squeaky toy. The racket scared the hell out of all of us, including Duke. Thoroughly annoyed, Duke kicked the squeaky toy off the sofa and looked at all of us with suspicion and obvious disdain, then he yawned and went back to sleep. He's a funny boy when he sleeps-always chasing something with those long legs going a hundred miles an hour. Maybe he's dreaming of times he was capable of running like the wind.
Ever watchful and alert, except when he's napping (we've already established that's just about all day long), Duke likes to keep an eye on the barbarian activity (squirrels and rabbits) in the yard. I think he also keeps an eye on the farmer. Same difference. Those two never really hit it off. When Duke was just a wee little hot dog on stilts (that's what he looked like), we tried to crate him. He would let loose with a symphony of dog noise only the deaf could ignore. One day, my husband was working in his home office and crated the puppy (he had a hankering for expensive shoes). The dog scratched, cried, yipped, squealed and howled for 20 minutes. Certain we were beating the spoiled little beast, Mr. Farmer hopped the fence to see why the dog was carrying on. Even though the man was there to rescue him if need be, the pup never liked him. He still doesn't care much for him-or his dogs.
With the exception of beef tenderloin, there was one thing this dog seemed to love above everything else: chasing shovels full of snow that we'd toss to him. For us this was a chore, but for him, it was a game he loved. My son used to take him in the yard for an hour and throw snowballs. Duke never tired of it, but when frostbite threatened, my son would throw in the towel. Duke always won in the stamina department. He still loves snow, but instead of catching snowballs these days, he sticks to eating it off the table I always forget to put away in the fall. Since it's the only time he's allowed to eat from the table, I can't say I blame him. He's still a handsome boy, and even if he can't chase snowballs anymore, at least he still gets to run after them in his dreams.
Today's therapy is a pair of thrummed mittens in Cascade 220 and Louet Merino roving. This is as good for my soul as watching Dukealicious eat snow. For today, it doesn't get better than this.