Better

It was glorious today. Seventy, clear sun, warm breezes. Heaven.

Good for the soul and the psyche too. Canine, human.

We walked right after our oatmeal, even Mama Pajama went all the way to the River. Then I put the boy dogs in the van. It was so nice that the girl dogs could go in and out of the house with the kitchen door open. No worries of wandering Romeos getting to Lindy Available Loo. Not with Delia, Mama Pajama, Luciano, and Maria to sound the "furriner" alarm and Bill right there. So the girls and Luciano (he's really one of the girls in that Broke Back Mountain kind of way, and prefers their company) got some peace and quiet and sun and relaxation, and the boys got to run.

And run they did. There is no dog alive who appreciates a run more than Fat Charlie. Could he possibly be turning eleven in June? He smiles and grins and wags and chases the younger ones and wags and smiles and grins and tells me what a great good servant I am. (That was nice to hear today.) And Very Old Dog had a lovely good time. He galloped a bit! I held my breath. He trotted around and around and finally flopped on the ground and rolled in the grass and worshipped the sun. And Swede William got to run off some frustration, and Sam I Am got to outrun everyone else. After he did twelve weave poles perfectly and did the chute. I made up a trick which seemed to work. I put yummy treats inside the chute showing the path out, and he figured how to open the way with his nose down.

Then I worked the rest of the afternoon outside. Alternating Swede William and Lindy Loo in the yard, and explaining to Swede William in no uncertain terms, that when it was his turn inside, in a comfy crate full of chewgars and peanut butter filled kongs, he could and would be quiet. And he was. Good boy.

Oh how a little warmth and sunshine can calm a troubled soul.

hug your hounds