“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 957 (Sunday) – dog day

On October 30, 2020, it snowed at The BungaLowell. It certainly snowed elsewhere, too, but the back yard is the only place I have a photographic record from that day. Winston was perky and spry and could still see then, and he frolicked in the yard in the fresh snow. Moose was not really a fan of snow, avoiding it whenever possible and tolerating it when he had to. He would walk as close to the house as possible, seeking the shelter of the few inches of gutter overhead.

Winston - a work of digital art.

The 2022 edition of October 30 featured sunshine and foliage and seemed to be not too chilly. Inside, the household appliances were busy with laundry and dish cleaning. A new pot of soup with potatoes, carrots, broccoli, and onion soup mix simmered on the stove and filled the house with a yummy fragrance. Despite my best intentions to finish writing sentences for my Finnish homework, time was spent streaming a new season of the Finnish crime drama Deadwind, recently added to Netflix.

The only times I went outside were to bring the trash bin to the curb and to cater to the Canine Overlord and his 10,000 outdoor adventures. It was another day of him scratching at the front door, then taking a hard left to stand at the door to the side deck. He would steadfastly refuse my urgings that he go to the front yard and would hold his position at the side door until I caved to his demands. It rarely takes long, because I just don’t have the attention span for it, and he’s old and has enough going on without me micromanaging every second of his remaining time.

Once on the deck, Winston’s routine is to alternately wander and relax in the sun, then mosey through the yard, sniffing the perimeter fence line. Eventually, he makes his way to the gate at the end of the driveway, where he barks to come back inside.

Winston in the snow, October 30, 2020.

While Win is engaging his deck and back yard entertainment I either scurry around the outside of the house to close the back gate, or head through the house and out the back door to close it. A couple weeks ago I forgot that step and after an extended period of quiet and no barked demand to come inside, I discovered there was no longer a dog in the yard. Winston was walking in the street about three houses away.  Since losing his vision, he moves more slowly. In his sighted days he liked to run, and once out of the yard, would make a break for it. With his nose to the ground and bumping into things, travel progress is much slower, which gives me a decent chance to catch him. 

When indoors, Winston lounged on the couch, tapping my leg with his paw for me to rub his head, then shifting just far enough away that I couldn’t reach him. That has long been one of his favorite games, and it reminds me of cats I used to know. At least he’s easily entertained, and the drama is left to the shows on TV.