A Cold and Snowy Evening...

Here I am again on a Sunday evening, wondering how the weekend managed to go quite so fast. It's currently snowing hard outside, the wind is blowing and I'm glad I get to be inside and appreciate winter's beauty from inside. As much as I love snow, it's nice, sometimes, to curl up and enjoy it as part of the landscape rather than get too up close and personal with it.

I did get a little up close and personal with it this morning. I went to my parent's house for the weekend. I got to do some Christmas shopping with my mother and just have a nice relaxing weekend. As I mentioned on Friday, I knew it was supposed to snow today so I'd already planned on leaving their house much earlier than usual so I could make it home before the snowstorm hit.

I did leave early but I still managed to run into some tricky driving conditions. I forget that Indiana is a little less reluctant to salt/plow their roads as Ohio. As a result, I spent an hour and a half of white-knuckled driving going 35 miles an hour instead of the posted 55 mph limit. The road was snow covered and icy so I had to be careful to stay in the tracks other cars had made.

By the time I crossed over from Indiana to Ohio, I was exhausted. Driving that carefully and alertly makes for a stressful time especially with two puppies in the backseat.

Fortunately, the roads in Ohio were merely wet rather than snowy and it was a much more relaxed drive the rest of the way home. It was snowing but not very heavily- just wet, small flakes.

I hadn't been home more than an hour when it began to really snow. I'm talking the thick, fluffy flakes that accumulate really quickly. The wind began to blow and the snow seemed to be falling sideways. Needless to say, I was extremely relieved I hadn't stayed any longer at my parents.

The puppies are enjoying the snow. They've been running around in it for a while now. It's deep enough that their little tummies keep getting soaked. Dachshunds, with their short legs are very low to the ground for a dog and so it's comical to watch them bound through the snow, almost seeming to dive between steps. They don't mind. They run around and chase each other just as they do when there's no cold, pretty white stuff on the ground.

Sookie even gets excited when we do the snow dance. We did it last night. This means it's probably our fault that it snowed. I probably could have timed that a little better but given that we made it home before it started coming down fast and furiously, we also could have timed it worse.

The nice thing about snow is it makes you feel a little less guilty if you're dreadfully lazy. For example, this afternoon once the stress of driving had worn off, I spent the afternoon with two puppies curled up on my lap, drinking a mug of peppermint hot chocolate and watching "Meet Me in St. Lous." I think there could be worse ways to spend a snowy Sunday afternoon. There are probably more productive ways too but every now and again, it's just a luxury to be lazy.

I plan on continuing that tradition for the rest of the evening. I've decided this is my 'snow day' and I'm going to appreciate it. Every last minute of it even as time goes by as quickly as it always does during the last hours of a weekend.

Still, even if time does move fast, on a cold, snowy night, it's nice to be home to appreciate the minutes, fast as they might move.

Happy Monday!

Festive Snowfalls...

Sometimes there are days which seem so right that you wonder if they're real.

I had one of those days this weekend. It was Saturday. I woke up to a gently prompting puppy. Specifically, it was Rory. She has this way of licking my ear when she needs to go outside in the mornings. It's quite gentle but it's her way of saying, "Hey, mummy, I quite need to go out but you seem like you're sleeping so I'm trying not to jump on your head and say, "HEY! I NEED TO PEE."

So I got up and let Rory and Sookie outside. To my delight, I realized it had been snowing and the ground was covered with a layer of white. The pups, confused at the change in landscape, did their business then promptly came in and wanted to go back to bed. Given that it was only 6:30 a.m., I was happy to oblige.

When we got up properly at 8 a.m., the snow had continued. The puppies went out again and this time explored the snow. They came in, their noses covered in white, soaked to the skin but seeming excited.

I ran what errands I had to run that morning so I could spend the day at home. I'm glad I did because it continued to snow, non-stop all day. To my delight, the puppies seemed to love the snow as much as I did. They spent ages outside, rolling in the snow, burrowing in it and just having a great time.

They came in periodically. They warmed up by getting under their blankets. As soon as they were warm and dry, they wanted to go out again.

Naturally, this made me rather happy. You have to understand, my last dachshund, as effective as he was in the snow dance, hated snow. He looked at me as though I'd betrayed him whenever snow fell and he got wet. Thus, it was to my great delight that I discovered both Rory and Sookie seemed to genuinely enjoy the frozen white stuff.

We went for a couple of walks. Somehow, we seemed to choose the time when the snowflakes were falling heaviest and thickest. We got soaked but it didn't stop me from turning my face up to the sky any more than it stopped Rory and Sookie from exploring snowbanks and divebombing into them.

By the time we got home, we were all soaked. I put the girls coats which, by now, were wet and mucky, into the washing machine. I made myself a cup of peppermint hot chocolate.

I can say, there's no finer way to see in the first real snowfall of the season than a mug of peppermint hot chocolate.

Unless, perhaps, it involves putting up the Christmas tree while drinking peppermint hot chocolate.

This turned out to be our Saturday. I put up my Christmas tree, decorated the house and drank peppermint hot chocolate while listing to the very festive sounds of the Tran-Siberian Orchestra. The puppies, meanwhile, watched. They were a little alarmed at the tree. They're not happy that I hung bells on the lower level of branches to deter them. They don't understand why a large, fake Christmas tree is adorning our living room.

I'd much rather have had a real one. I'm sure they would too. However, it's hard to manage a real tree when you're a singleton. Also, as much as I like the smell, the dropping needles are a bit of a pain. Also, I hate having to put the tree out to be recycled at the end of the season. It's just plain sad.

So I put up my 6 ft, pre-lit tree every year. I make up for the sparse areas by decorating those areas more heavily. I have a lot of decorations. I have so many that next year, I'm hoping to be able to get a second tree for my family room.

Still, real or fake, there's something wonderfully festive about getting ready for the holidays, especially while the snow is falling.

By Saturday evening while the snow was still falling, we had a very festive house. We celebrated by watching "Elf," wrapping gifts and being happy that I'm doing well on my Christmas shopping.

That's the best way to celebrate in my opinion. I usually spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with my parents so it's nice to be able to squeeze in the festive moments at home while I can.

It's especially nice when the snow is falling gently but firmly outside and it really feels like Christmas. I'm a sucker for tradition and when the snow comes down during the Christmas season, it makes me feel exponentially more festive. I don't need an excuse for loving snow but this snowfall was perfect. It fell on everything but the roads and sidewalks. It was the type of snow that makes everything looks like a Christmas card.

Sunday was less snowy but we had a few flurries. Each time, the pups ran out as if to embrace it. During one of our snowy walks, I realized I might have been slighly crazy to be out and about it such a heavy snowfall but given that the pups were with me, turning their faces upwards, I didn't feel quite so alone.

Sometimes, that's just a lovely feeling. Whether the company is human or canine, to celebrate something as wonderful as snow with another creature is just the most rewarding feeling in the world. It's nice to see the puppies outside, embracing the twirling, swirling snowflakes and then have them come in to be cuddled with a blanket and to watch out the window with me.

Even if I'm a little crazy to love snow the way I do...at least I have company!

Happy Monday!

Early Snow...the Joy and the Guilt....

I made a mistake last night.

I made the mistake of talking to the puppies about what would happen when it snowed.

To top it off, I wore one of my snowflake necklaces today.

This may not seem like a big deal to most people but when you're a Monkeypants in possession of a dire love of snow, it's a dangerous thing indeed.

It's only November. As much as I love snow and the comfortable cosiness of the things associated with it, even I know that it's too early. Only yesterday I was mocking the giant inflatable Santa Claus down the street from my house.

Now, it seems, even though not-so-deep-inside, I'm eager for snow, we could have snow by the weekend.

For me, this is quite a delightful idea. After all, I'm the type of Monkeypants that adores the white stuff. I don't care if it's early. I only care that it's the real thing and not some slimy sleet that only wishes it were snow.

However, while I love the wintery precipitation, I'm not deluded enough to expect everyone to agree with me.

Thus, since it's only November 3rd tomorrow, it seems that there is snow in our forecast. By Friday, we should expect raw, cold temperatures that promise precipitation. If we get the precipitation, it's likely to be wet snow.

Naturally, being the winter-loving Monkeypants I am, this sets off certain interior cartwheels/songs of joy within me.

Yet, also being the sympathetic, empathetic Monkeypants I am, I can hear the groaning and moaning of my mother's anti-winter bones curling themselves up into a fetal position as we speak.

Personally, I can't wait. I made my puppies coats a few weeks ago as I mentioned on this blog. Thus, once we start getting temperatures that are below freezing, I still expect my little pups to don their coats and go walking in a winter wonderland with me.

Yet, the realist in me protests. Perhaps it is too early. Perhaps the beginning of November is too early for snow.

The sad thing is, I just can't tell anymore. I've lost my sense of the seasons to my sense of what I love most about the seasons. I love this transition period. I loved how Autumn suddenly slapped the hand of Summer and said "no more," as it made the leaves finally tumble from the trees and the nights to grow cold. I love how Autumn has to give way to winter with the spirit of balmy days that are interlaced with frozen nights that stunt the growth and progression of anything until spring.

I know I'll love it when Winter has it's ice-cold grip on us but Spring sneaks in and says, "look, you can be as frigid as you want but during the day, I'm taking control" and, slowly, her magic works and there are crocus, daffodil and hyacinth shoots peeking through the frozen earth.

Yet there's a long way to go until then. In the meantime, it's still Autumn with only a hint that snow looms. Nevertheless, the hint is strong enough that I'm already being blamed for the potential frozen precipitation.

My problem is that I love snow. In my former days, I had a dachshund named Sausage who would help me bring upon snow by our ritual dance. In my newer days, I have a dachshund named Sookie who can also help me do the dance but she's yet to realize the consequences of her infectious joy. In addition, my mother gave me a snowflake necklace that seemed to bring on the weather whenever i wore it.

This year, I haven't yet worn that necklace but I have another snowflake which, I confess, I wore today. It's not as fancy nor as obvious but given that snow was predicted by Frank Mazullo and Fox 19 Stormtracker weather, it seems to be quite as effective.

I admit, the joyous part of me that enjoys frolicking in the snow, that enjoys the frozen tundra of winter is happy that this weekend could be the start of the ice-laced season.

Yet, the realistic part of me, the part that will always be tied, invisibly, to my mother who I love beyond words, knows that it IS too early. It's only the first week of November. Winter doesn't officially begin until December 21st. A few weeks ago I was complaining that Summer was being greedy by trying to infringe her heat and warmth on Autumn's territory. Now, it seems. Autumn is getting the shaft again because Winter is being slightly greedy and wanting to speed things along.

I have to admit, the idea of a wintry covered sidewalk adust with snow doesn't exactly make me unhappy yet the nature of my personality is that I care about others. I know my mother and other winter- despising humans are definitely not ready for snow.

Yet, no matter how I feel or try to feel, the fact is there's snow in the forecast for this weekend. I just want to go on the record and say that it was NOT my fault. Sure, I wore one of my pendant necklaces and I described it to my puppies but this doesn't mean it's my fault.

Of course, if I decide to wear the official necklace and do the offical, "Snow, Sookie!, Snow!" dance, that's another story.

I'll keep you posted. It won't happen for a while, mum...I promise.

Happy Wednesday!

For Peppy....A Slightly Mental but Lovable Chihuahua

Alas, today, we did not lose our network. Though it threatened to be a little sluggish for a while, it plodded along and then recovered itself. I was quite disappointed.

Still, I managed to get some work done. Lately, my job is scaring me. There are days when I actually feel like I could say I like my job. I won't yet though. As I've stated a few times before, I have commitment issues. In this case, I'm afraid that as soon as I say that, my job is going to go right back to being that place where I go to earn my paycheck before I get to go home and enjoy life.

Nevertheless, things aren't so bad. In general, things aren't quite so bad. A week ago, things were much worse.

I think I mentioned that I lost Sausage a week ago. When I say "lost", I mean that he had to be put to sleep.

If you've read my blog for any length of time, you'll know that Sausage was my very lazy, very selfish, very loved dachshund dog who lived at my parents but, possibly, was coming to live with me. He didn't do much but sleep and eat and, when the occasion merited it (usually when I had food or a rub on the nose), he'd show me affection.

Sausage, however, was also a little mean. He'd always been a little mean, ever since he was a puppy. I think he came from a bad home when we got him because he was always jumpy and nervous. As he got older we learned that he had very big teeth that he liked to show when he was irritated. Given that my parents had four other dogs who were smaller than him, Sausage learned to bear his teeth at the ones who irritated most. It was a scary sight which, at first, seemed harmless.

Over the years, he'd always picked on one of my parent's dogs in particular: Peppy, the slightly overweight, slightly nutty chihuahua, who looked like a mini border collie. Peppy was my 'college graduation dog'. My parents had come down to help me move home after graduation and we'd stopped at a pet store. Peppy had been so irresistible, he'd come home with us. He was very loyal to certain people, me being one of them- most of the time. He also loved my older brother and would follow him everywhere when he came home. As he got older, he started to lose his vision. By the time he turned almost13 this year, he was virtually blind. Sausage had begun to pick on Peppy more and more, attacking him when he got a chance. We worried about it but we never realized how bad it would get.

Last week, my mother came home to find that Sausage had almost killed Peppy. My dad took him to the vet but nothing could be done. We'd lost Peppy. When I heard the news, it was a huge shock. What was just as much of a shock was what had to be done about Sausage. He was getting meaner with age and in addition to the other three dogs my parents' have, my nephews and nieces are often around. Given the brutal state of Peppy, it was too much of a risk to keep Sausage around.

The next day, Sausage was put to sleep. My heart broke a little, not just for Sausage but also for little Peppy who had been the victim of a bully.

It's been a week and it's easier to talk about even if it's not easier to comprehend. It was so sudden, two dogs, two days. I know, for my parents, it was a different kind of shock. They had to deal with the physical nature of what happened. My dad had to take the dogs to the vet, my mother has been dealing with an emptier house.

I suppose, in a way, it's been easier for me than it has been for them. I got to mourn away from the scene of the tragedy. Though, I will say, it doesn't make it any easier to lose a dog. When they've been part of the family for as long as they have, it's never easy.

I think the hardest part in this is trying to comprehend what it was that Sausage did. Peppy is the real victim in the tragedy. Mauled by Sausage, he didn't stand a chance. He was a sweet dog, if a little...different. He had strange dances he did, a high pitched almost soprano squeak that he'd lift in answer to the other dogs bark when, on occasion, they'd decide to have a 'sing', raising their barks in unison to whatever invisible trigger motivated them. He would sit by my feet when I was on the computer, my 'writing dog' as I called him. He was a loyal dog who didn't deserve the fate that Sausage dealt him.

Yet...I can't help but be sad about Sausage. As my dad reminded me, Peppy is the one I feel sorry for and should mourn and I do. But Sausage was....my Sausage. In all his meanness, I loved that stupid dog. I loved the snow dance I did with him, the fact that he would manage to find a patch of sunshine even if they were few and far between. He'd recharge himself in the sun and become, as I dubbed him, Solar Sausage.

It's hard to forget those things, no matter how much I should despise him for what he did. I don't think we can help who or what we love and though Sausage turned out to be a bad apple, I still loved him. I will miss him for a long time, probably always, just as I miss Peppy.

Through all of it, I know my parents had to do what they did. I will never blame them for that. I wasn't there, I didn't see how badly Sausage injured Peppy. I didn't have to be there as Sausage left the house for the last time. I've imagined it...a lot. Each time I do, I get sad and am eternally grateful I wasn't there because, if I had been, I would have begged my dad not to take him, even though it would have been the wrong thing. I thought about it the whole night before Sausage died, thought about calling them, begging them to stop.

But I didn't because it wouldn't have been right. It's only been a week and it's still fresh in my mind. I feel bad writing this because my mum will read it and I don't want to depress her or upset her. But, as a writer, this is how I express myself and tonight, I felt like it was time to talk about it, to eulogize both dogs in blog form.

I'm not quite ready to move on yet but I've decided that when Spring comes and stays for good, I'm going to go to the Dachshund Rescue of Ohio and look for a dachshund to rescue. In my anger and shock about Sausage, I tried to find another type of dog that I might click with; I even went to the pet store with my parents to look this past weekend. In the end, it was the tiny little dachshund puppy that I kept watching and I realized that it was no good. I'm a wiener-dog Monkeypants, no matter how hard I try. I'm going to look for a little girl dog who's old enough to need to be rescued and to appreciate a good home. While the puppies are adorable, I want to find a companion who'll appreciate being rescued and enjoy the home I can provide.

In the meantime, I'll continue to miss and grieve for Peppy and, despite the circumstances, Sausage. Every time it snows, I'm going to picture him doing the snow dance and giving me one of my favourite things in the world, even though he hated snow and would cower whenever I gave the victorious shout of "Snow, Sausage, Snow!"

And as for Peppy, I'll never be able to sit at my computer without imagining him sitting by my feet, patiently waiting and enjoying the peace.

I'll miss them both.

Happy Wednesday