It is time once again for the perspective of the dog and the cat. As always, the dog has the first say, before he sees a squirrel and runs off.
7:12 AM. Waking up at home. Taking big stretch. Dreamed of splashing through a cold mountain stream. That’s my idea of fun!
7:14 AM. Looking outside. Puzzled by yet more falling snowflakes. Come on, already, we’re heading towards the middle of April!
7:15 AM. Robin has landed on the outside windowsill. It stares at me. I stare back at it. And then it starts chattering up a storm. I can’t speak bird, but I suspect it’s complaining about winter sticking around. Yes, I know, spring is taking its sweet time this year.
7:23 AM. The human comes downstairs. Hello, human! Say, is there someone we can call about this weather? I mean, I love the snow and all, but I want to also be able to love the April mud while there’s still an April, you know what I mean? Now then, priorities. Have you given any thought to my breakfast?
7:26 AM. Wagging my tail with great anticipation as the human pours me a bowl of kibbles. Oh boy oh boy oh boy!
7:27 AM. Licking my chops after finishing off my breakfast. Yummy!
7:33 AM. Requesting that the human let me out for my run. I’ve got a lot of energy to work off.
7:34 AM. Out the door and on the run. See you later, human!
7:46 AM. Running through the back fields, barking my head off at falling snow. As happy as I could be.
7:51 AM. Stopping by a neighbouring field. The donkey’s out for the first time this season. He sees me. I see him.
And of course he comes trotting my way.
7:52 AM. The donkey has run up to the fence and is now engaged in staring at me. Nothing more than that. Just staring. With those donkey eyes and that donkey smirk. Oh, sure, he might not look like he’s smirking, but he’s smirking.
7:54 AM. Have withdrawn from the fenceline. I know even without turning around that donkey is staring at me with every step I take until I’m out of view.
8:03 AM. Stopping by to see Spike the Magnificent, Tormentor of Squirrels. Hello, Spike!
8:04 AM. After our customary canine greetings, I ask Spike what he thinks of donkeys.
8:06 AM. Spike relates the ancient story of why dogs and donkeys don’t get along. Humans seem to think donkeys have an innate dislike of canines from the days when we were wolves. Spike thinks that’s wrong. He says it’s that demonic sounds they make. Like laughter out of the seventh circle of hell mixed with a high pitched shriek and a bit of gravel in their throats.
That sounds weird, Spike.
8:09 AM. Spike notes that his humans keep grumbling about spring take its sweet time getting here. So is my human. And really, if the stream out in the woods wasn’t free of ice, I’d think spring is still another month away.
8:12 AM. Spike and I part ways, promising to keep each other updated at all times about any movements of the enemy. Those squirrels must be up to something.
8:29 AM. Returning home. Barking to alert the human to my return. Loki, Annoyer of Mailmen and Chewer of Slippers, has returned!
8:31 AM. The human has subjected me to the attentions of the Towel of Torment before I could get in. Come on, human! It’s just a few stray flakes in my fur. Maybe a bit of splashing about in the creek. Okay, maybe more than a bit. But it’s not as if I found any mud to roll in!
8:54 AM. Settling down in the living room for a good nap. Turning in a circle three times before I lie down. Because two times is too few, and four times is too many.
11:47 AM. Waking up from nap. Taking a big stretch. Looking at the clock. Oh, good, I didn’t miss lunch.
12:12 PM. I have successfully mooched a dinner roll from the human. Yum yum yum!
1:30 PM. Barking at the mailman as he drops off the mail. Get lost, you monster!
4:09 PM. The human is having her afternoon tea. I have successfully convinced her to let me have an oatmeal cookie.
6:33 PM. Dinner with the human. She’s thoughtfully let me have some stewing beef. That suits me fine. No, human, you can have all the sprouts you want. I insist, I can’t eat another bite beyond what I’ve got here.
11:31 PM. The human is off to bed. Good night, human! Sleep well. Never fear, I will keep close watch over the house from down here.
In case I’m barking at four in the morning, it’s merely because the donkey from the McKendrick farm wandered out from the pasture in the middle of the night and will be staring in our windows.