Dogs are not, as some of their more fanciful champions like to claim, "little people in fur coats." I know this because of their remarkable tolerance for cold weather, which exceeds anything to be found among humans, little or otherwise.
When I got ready to take our two dogs out at 5 a.m. yesterday, the thermometer outside the kitchen window read 0, as in "zero." So I tucked them into their winter jackets, which they always wear when the mercury drops below 10 degrees, and we headed out.
Despite the temperature, Martha, our two-year-old pit bull/lab mix, decided once she got outside that this would be a good time to stand stock still and crane her neck in search of sights, sounds and smells that are undetectable to the human eye, ear and nose. This usually is accompanied by a round of barking at various phantoms and ghosts, but she remained silent yesterday as she stood, statue-like, on the sidewalk while her "master" froze his you-know-whats off.
When his turn came around, Aquinnah, our five-year-old chocolate lab, decided that it was time for a ground-level sniff-a-thon. Sauntering through the neighborhood at a speed that would qualify him for entry in a snail race, Aquinnah sniffed every bit of snow, ice and desiccated grass that was within reach of his super sensitive schnoz. He even interrupted his Prelude to No. 2, a spinning dance that precedes the deposit of his calling card, to suss out some scent that had suddenly wafted his way on the frigid air.
Maybe if I teach these two guys how to read the thermometer, they'll show a little more consideration.
When I got ready to take our two dogs out at 5 a.m. yesterday, the thermometer outside the kitchen window read 0, as in "zero." So I tucked them into their winter jackets, which they always wear when the mercury drops below 10 degrees, and we headed out.
Despite the temperature, Martha, our two-year-old pit bull/lab mix, decided once she got outside that this would be a good time to stand stock still and crane her neck in search of sights, sounds and smells that are undetectable to the human eye, ear and nose. This usually is accompanied by a round of barking at various phantoms and ghosts, but she remained silent yesterday as she stood, statue-like, on the sidewalk while her "master" froze his you-know-whats off.
When his turn came around, Aquinnah, our five-year-old chocolate lab, decided that it was time for a ground-level sniff-a-thon. Sauntering through the neighborhood at a speed that would qualify him for entry in a snail race, Aquinnah sniffed every bit of snow, ice and desiccated grass that was within reach of his super sensitive schnoz. He even interrupted his Prelude to No. 2, a spinning dance that precedes the deposit of his calling card, to suss out some scent that had suddenly wafted his way on the frigid air.
Maybe if I teach these two guys how to read the thermometer, they'll show a little more consideration.
No comments:
Post a Comment