I dressed Blackie up in her pink sweater because it’s cold outside. She has gained several pounds, and it’s probably because she’s not getting walked as often as she did during warm weather. So off with go – her in her pink sweater and me in my warm coat.
We take our time now. She has arthritis and I have neuropathy, and neither of us skip down the sidewalk like we used to. I’ve grown accustomed to stopping every minute or two and letting her smell the grass.
Today while we were stopped, I felt a yank on the leash and glanced down. She had fallen on something that must have smelled terrible to her and was attempting to roll in it – pink sweater be damned.
I burst out laughing and that was impetus enough to get her to jump back up and act like it never happened. However, as we started walking again, she did glance up at me with a grin on her face while her tail wagged. She knew that was not the dignified fifteen year old dog’s behavior I have come to expect. It’s as if she’d told a little joke during the walk.
She did this once before when she could still walk all the way around the block. We don’t walk that far any more because I fear she’ll give out and expect me to pick her up and carry her the rest of the way. (I did mention she’s gained weight, didn’t I? A hefty 40 pounds is what she weighed at the vet’s office Tuesday.) But the time before when she fell down and began to roll around, I was afraid she was having physical problems and maybe was having a seizure. Nope. She was having a delightful romp among bird poop, as I discovered as she rolled back and forth across it.
I have no idea what she smelled and decided to roll in this morning, but she seemed to enjoy doing it. I guess her sweater can be washed. When you get to know your dog well enough to share a laugh, it’s delightful. She may look like just a dog to some, but she’s a close friend to me.