Maya had to wait for the bustle of dinner, the cleanup of dishes, and calling hours for a colleague's 22 year old son killed on a snowmobile before her walk tonight. It was an unspeakably sad hour standing in a line of at least a couple hundred persons waiting to pay their respect and express sorrow for Carol and Gerry, two of the nicest people in our community. Their faces bore the horrendous effects of grief and loss.
When I returned home, my sometimes banshee like brood of children had spilled sugar all over the floor. Normally, this would be upsetting and I'd mumble like Rodney Dangerfield about respect, but after seeing Brian, the 22 year old beloved child lying in a casket, sugar on the floor seemed best put in the catagory of a shoulder shrug. Maya bounded toward me and I admit, I really felt too sad to grab the leash, but she sat, cocked her head to one side and implored me with her mud-colored eyes. Ca'mon!
Off we went toward the snowy park. Much snow melted today leaving sloshy soft soil for Maya's paws. Her nose hardly lifted until, that is, she spotted a group of girls huddled together giggling. What's better than a group of girls in a huddle? Why a group of girls in a huddle with mud at their feet. She promptly started toward them, threw herself into their welcoming crowd and flipped on her back to gratefully accept their adoration and belly rubs.
Life is good. I didn't think that it was warm enough to melt anything today, but while I worked at computer and library stuff, the banks were minimized significantly and much bare ground was exposed so the trail around Mantle Lake was passable. There is so very much snow every year and snowplows create massive banks of snow that take a very long time to melt. They are caked with rocks and dirt, gravel and sod and salt for the roads. Maya loves snow and the dirtier the better. Today's walk was a sort of goodbye to the snow and hello to mud season.
Maya's eager nose poked every bank and mud pile that she could find and as I watched her obvious joy at the smelly earth, it seemed she was oblivious to everything around her. That is, until a bird shrieked and she froze listening or a leaf from autumn skirted across her vision and she'd pounce on it. It was an adorable sight that I'm normally unable too preoccupied focus on--so much to do, to plan, to apply for, to create strategies, to implement goals and all in the interest of improving library services. I laughed. I wondered what my day would be like if my greatest pleasure was a walk in the park. Maybe today it was.
We sauntered home to write our blog. Maya lifts her paw now and then to place on my foot--I really think she believes that she is helping.
Maya had to wait for the bustle of dinner, the cleanup of dishes, and calling hours for a colleague's 22 year old son killed on a snowmobile before her walk tonight. It was an unspeakably sad hour standing in a line of at least a couple hundred persons waiting to pay their respect and express sorrow for Carol and Gerry, two of the nicest people in our community. Their faces bore the horrendous effects of grief and loss. 
Maya and I went for a long walk today. It's still cooler temps here and windy besides, but the sun hits her selkie-black coat and she heats up fast. She discovered (as did I) who is talking to her at night and, incidentally, who she barks at in that baritone, slow and purposeful bark in response--it's a beautiful chocolate lab a few houses down. I recognized his voice when he greeted her and so did she. She stood at at full attention and was so excited, she shook. 
get their minds off the chocolate in the house. For a good article on chocolate poisoning in dogs, see, http://www.gsrne.org/Chocolate.htm
