Winnie and Ollie sent this photo from Colorado where they are enjoying their annual vacation.
They've been going on hikes every day and are clearly getting into great shape. (Trudie stayed home in a board and care facility, since exercise is no longer her thing.)
These dogs are poster children for the healthful properties of mountain air, meadow romps, forest tromps, and so on.
Maybe I'll take a hike today too. A short one. Got to build up slowly.
Ambushed by water
I may forgive, won't forget
The trees click their tongues.
When I went out to the bluffs yesterday afternoon I was happy to see some familiar faces.
Iseley, Portia and Romeo are friends who travel together in a small red Ford Festiva.
They are very sweet animals.
Iseley is the biggest, and was the boss for a while, although now Portia is finding her power.
Romeo is the one who has problems with his legs. In the past couple of months he's had to have two surgeries. Because of that, the three of them didn't come to the bluffs for a while.
Even now, Romeo is still taking it easy. He stays on the leash so as not to overdo it. I'm not sure he's going to ever fully recover.
Whatever -- we're all happy that the St. Bernards are back.
They provide a general Shane Battier-esque positive energy for our group at the bluffs, while at the same time shining individually as well as one-on-one.
We were at the bluffs this morning when Ziggy's dad said he had a good trick to show us.
I assumed that it would be another piece de resistance from Ziggy -- such an amazing achiever. But it turned out that the scheduled performer was Ziggy's dad.
First, not to deny us, Ziggy did perform a few tricks -- specifically:
-'Shake paws' (right and then left)
<----'Bunny'
'Who's your daddy?'-->
Then his dad took over, demonstrating some impressive Iyengar yoga moves.
Ziggy and I were transfixed; Ziggy perhaps less so than me.
I suppose that when you come from such a talented family, any individual accomplishment can get to seem a bit ho-hum.
With my rawhide at 9 a.m.:
With my rawhide at 3 p.m.:
The rawhide is constant in both photos.
There has been a lot of terrible medical news in my circle recently. So I am pleased to at least allay concerns in one tiny area. My recent lab tests revealed good results: a very good general blood panel, normal liver enzymes, and a phenobarbital level that was actually a little on the low side, which means there's lots of room to increase the dosage should that ever be necessary.
So my health is one less thing for my associates to have to think about.
If you want to, though, you to can always worry about my weight: 17 pounds, 7 ounces. Remember, however, that a good portion of that -- at least 5 to 10 pounds, I'd estimate -- is attributable to my luxuriant fur.
I got to work right away on some of my New Year's resolutions -- specifically, those dealing with exercise and excretion.
First, I took a very long walk with my associates Buddy and Killer. By the end we were exhausted, especially me.
I took a few hours to rest.
Then I undertook learning how to use the doggie door.
It was fairly pleasant. My training team had taped up one piece of the airlock door, so I only had to go through one layer of plastic.
I had a lot of encouragement from my trainers, and they arranged for me to enjoy delicious treats on the other side.
I was a heroic and outstanding student, if I do say so myself.
So far, though, this is just an agreeable pastime involving intermittent reinforcement. I have not yet reached a Helen Keller-"W-A-T-E-R"-type epiphany where I catch on that I should run out this door when I need to void my bowels. Perhaps that will come later. Or maybe not. It's not an easy connection to make.
Sometimes when I go to the bluffs the plethora of options makes me feel like I'm on a cruise ship.
The other night, for example, there was a yoga session taking place at the same time as a game of fetch. It was hard for me to decide which one I should join.
In the end I went with yoga, because of its lifelong health benefits.
I flew too close to the sun last night. I got so involved in chewing on my rawhide that I sustained an injury to my right front paw, which was holding the rawhide in place.
First we put a sock on it, but after I pulled that off it was time for the dressing / gauze / tape treatment, which is where things stand now.
