At 1.30am I realized that we’d been graced with more snow, thanks to my dog and his currently loose bowels, which found me outside at that extremely early/late hour. Snow that looks as though it could stay, although who knows, with the yo-yo-ing temperatures we are prone to experiencing here in Eastern Ontario at this time of year. When I grabbed my camera this morning, I wasn’t exactly in the most cheerful mood, largely thanks to the dog, but that changed as I trudged along and gradually started to notice things around me, like the clear morning light.
Our delightful nine-month old puppy is experiencing some tummy woes, which is a drag for him and us, but worse still he has recently discovered gaps in the fencing around our property, along with bouts of wanderlust that cause him to ignore our calls and put his life at risk as he heads for the highway. Don’t call us lazy – fencing 28 acres to keep a wandering dog at bay isn’t exactly easy or cheap, no matter how you slice it. So, for now, while we consider our options, Reggie is firmly on a leash or a rope at all times.
Which is how I came to finally get a picture of him pointing this morning, a characteristic which is fairly unusual in labrador retrievers.
At the water’s edge, it was hard to imagine that I’d taken this dog retrieving in our pond just three days earlier. Clearly he was entertaining the same memories, as he reached up for his usual target, nestled in a young tree nearby. He might have been game for a swim, but I certainly wasn’t going to let him try.
Morning light when combined with snow is so pretty, and I’m always stunned by how some things in nature are able to carry what seem like impossible snow loads for their delicate forms.
Up at the house, our youngest took a break from his new homeschooling routines to play elaborate games with his trucks in the snow, something he thinks about longingly during the rest of the year. This is one of his special times and I won’t lie, it can lead to tension as he worries about clumsy adults tripping over the roads he carves out and now about hapless dogs churning up his carefully worn paths. So, the dog – on a shorter leash for the moment anyway – stayed inside, and I watched from a distance.
His father was allowed to indulge his British enthusiasm for the first snow heavy enough to warrant skis, and later they took a tobaggan down the hill for a spin and a spill or two.
I stayed inside and worked, as I have to grab a few minutes wherever I can now. I know, you are feeling very sorry for me.
The chickens seemed happy enough in the mini shelter out in their run – this funny little box started out life as home for Esme and her brood of eight tiny chicks when they arrived back in September. Since moving into their much larger digs, it has been standing empty and forlorn, until this weekend when older son took off some of the side boards in an effort to create a more open form of shelter for these now big birds when they are out in their run. They absolutely loved it today, as it kept them off the cold ground when they weren’t actively foraging and moving around.
I love that the chickens seem to find the ramp at the end of their tunnel from the coop completely redundant; this shot was taken after all nine chickens were in the yard for the day – clearly jumping off the platform before reaching the ramp is the preferred form of egress.