Muddy Paws

I was discussing the challenges of muddy paw days.  You know, the days it's wet, muddy and miles of  paw prints are tracked through the house. Temps in the 40's, lots of melting snow, fog and drizzle + 16 big feet traipsing in and out all weekend.  I mopped twice yesterday and once today.  It was a personal record for me.  Thankfully a little dirt on the floors doesn't keep me up at night.

I know people take time to wipe paws every time they come in.  I'm not one of them.  As many times as Layla is in and out in one day I'd never get anything else done.  If they can't wipe their own paws I'm not going to do it for them.  I will say the paw prints on my white spa robe did get me a bit riled up tonight, but c'est la vie.  Or c'est la paws.  In a perfect world there would be a magic rug that sucks the dirt off and blows them dry.  Okay, I'm dreaming here.

 

Perhaps there is a lesson in muddy paws.  They, for the most part, are not afraid to get their paws wet, or muddy.  They aren't afraid to experience all the elements.  Maybe they don't know better, or, maybe they don't care.  We could learn from that.

Paws are paws.  Wet, dry, dirty or clean.  They get them where they want to go.  They are like kids and puddles.  They just can't resist.  So, while I may gripe about the tracks on the floor.  I have to remember the paws that have crossed the bridge.  In a heart beat I'd welcome the prints of Abby, Fancy, Kobe, Mr. Hanky, Maddy, Sidney, Sophie and so many others one more time.  Into each house a little mud must be tracked.  Better floors tracked with love than spotless floors that have never been touched.

Mud can be cleaned, prints erased. Except of course, those that have touched our hearts.

Walking Partners

Roughly 13 years ago my 8 week old Labrador puppy gave me a wonderful gift.     Simply by chance, and because Abby was so stinking cute I received the gift of a girl friend.  Now, seriously, what is better than a girl friend?  Unless you are a guy and then it would be a guy friend.  It had to have been destiny.

Now we all know puppies are like magnets.  So this woman, walking by my house with her own lab, didn't stand a chance.  Karma, timing, dogs, mutual interests, and irreverent sense of humor all met in that moment.  And the rest is history.

So, over the years we walked together.  For the longest time we walked the dogs in the cemetery.  Until we got thrown out.  Lest you think it was something we did, it wasn't.  Dogs were banned from the cemetery and we lost our favorite walking spot. Then we walked the dogs at the hospital while doing pet therapy visits.  Then one of us (who shall remain nameless) had the nerve to move to the other side of town. Then to another part of the state. She had a lot of nerve I tell you.

On a visit this weekend, we got to walk again.  With my dogs, not hers, and in my neck of the woods.  But, as with good friends you pick up right where you left off. With stories and giggles, memories and new adventures.  On a gravel road and in a corn field we walked bundled up with gloves, hats and fur collars we had each purchased by chance.  Fur collars in the country, how delightfully absurd.  And deliciously warm.  Just like our friendship.