Those of you who know us well know that we have an ancient Airedale, Boomer, who refuses to stay in the house even when the winds howl and the mercury rattles like a tiny red pea in the thermometer. Well, friends, those nights of braving the cold are gone: Boomer has now retired to the attached garage. During a cold snap the weekend before last, he began to cry late at night. I dressed and went out to find him disoriented and stumbling around the kennel.
I brought him to the garage and made a bed for him, covered him up, and for three days he drank only a little warm milk and ate only dog biscuit or two. He's recovered somewhat since; he's up and around a few times a day, and occasionally attempts a leap or a meandering trot in the yard. And he'll drink water now and eat dog food, though he'll still hold out if he thinks a biscuit might be available ...
Anyway, a haiku tribute to the great winter dog we remember and still love:
dark divot in the ice from
patient dog drinking
Stay warm and sleep well today, old man. I'll see you soon.
Labels: dogs, musings, poetry, winter