Raisin D'etre
Lala is delicate. She does not like the cold. There are no patches of grass suitable for her potty needs within a 200 meter radius; at least when the December wind begins to blow and the temperature drops to the negative half of our festive candy cane thermometer. One lick and no stick, it's still above zero. Two licks and your tongue sticks, better grab your toque and mittens!
Last night, she trotted out to her usual spot behind our building and all was well until a strong gust from the west nearly took her off three of her four feet. She crossed her doggy legs and headed straight back to the door, looking at me as though I had lost control of my senses. I waited to see if she would change her mind. She stood there looking at me, cockeyed as if inviting me out to try it for myself. Thinking she needed some encouragement, I opened the door just wide enough to shoo her away from it and told her to hurry up. She responded by trotting obediently over to her spot, looking over one shoulder at me and then headed straight around the building to the front door. After all, she was a lady wasn't she?
Irritated, I headed through the building to the front door where I knew she'd be patiently waiting for me to turn up with the key. A few people were gathered there that knew me and I assured them she was fine. "She is tired of using the staff entrance, she believes in using the front door now," I explained to them, as though it was perfectly logical.
Back in our apartment, I dug out my supply of potty pads and explained to her she would have complete privacy in the living room. She inspected the pad diligently and unconcerned, hopped straight onto my bed and settled in for a good snore. I knew she wouldn't wake me; once her Lala mind is made up, it is made UP!
Five a.m. came rather quickly and I grabbed my robe to take her down for her usual morning bathroom break. I didn't bother taking the keys as she has been trained to simply run out, potty and run back to the door. This morning was a complete repeat of last night. She ran down the stairs to the lower level and I was forced to step out to retrieve her. Too late, I remembered my keys were in the apartment upstairs. She scurried up the stairs and once again, headed straight around to the front of the building, wavy ears flying in the wind.
I had no choice but to join her in the lobby and wait for the next person to come down. Glaring at each other, we waited. Finally, we were let into the building and I dashed upstairs to start my day.
After work, I grabbed a snack size box of raisins and we headed out to the trails behind our building. Helping myself to a bit of the chewy treat, I thought how wonderful it was to keep a dog and share everything with her. My once clean floors are now covered in bits of sand from our trips to the beach between mop days.
Recipes and Stories
Raisin D'etre
December 6, 2017
|
Esther White
Lala is delicate. She does not like the cold. There are no patches of grass suitable for her potty needs within a 200 meter radius; at least when the December wind begins to blow and the temperature drops to the negative half of our festive candy cane thermometer. One lick and no stick, it's still above zero. Two licks and your tongue sticks, better grab your toque and mittens!
Last night, she trotted out to her usual spot behind our building and all was well until a strong gust from the west nearly took her off three of her four feet. She crossed her doggy legs and headed straight back to the door, looking at me as though I had lost control of my senses. I waited to see if she would change her mind. She stood there looking at me, cockeyed as if inviting me out to try it for myself. Thinking she needed some encouragement, I opened the door just wide enough to shoo her away from it and told her to hurry up. She responded by trotting obediently over to her spot, looking over one shoulder at me and then headed straight around the building to the front door. After all, she was a lady wasn't she?
Irritated, I headed through the building to the front door where I knew she'd be patiently waiting for me to turn up with the key. A few people were gathered there that knew me and I assured them she was fine. "She is tired of using the staff entrance, she believes in using the front door now," I explained to them, as though it was perfectly logical.
Back in our apartment, I dug out my supply of potty pads and explained to her she would have complete privacy in the living room. She inspected the pad diligently and unconcerned, hopped straight onto my bed and settled in for a good snore. I knew she wouldn't wake me; once her Lala mind is made up, it is made UP!
Five a.m. came rather quickly and I grabbed my robe to take her down for her usual morning bathroom break. I didn't bother taking the keys as she has been trained to simply run out, potty and run back to the door. This morning was a complete repeat of last night. She ran down the stairs to the lower level and I was forced to step out to retrieve her. Too late, I remembered my keys were in the apartment upstairs. She scurried up the stairs and once again, headed straight around to the front of the building, wavy ears flying in the wind.
I had no choice but to join her in the lobby and wait for the next person to come down. Glaring at each other, we waited. Finally, we were let into the building and I dashed upstairs to start my day.
After work, I grabbed a snack size box of raisins and we headed out to the trails behind our building. Helping myself to a bit of the chewy treat, I thought how wonderful it was to keep a dog and share everything with her. My once clean floors are now covered in bits of sand from our trips to the beach between mop days.
There are furry dust bunnies that have escaped the mop and hidden under the couch in the living room where I'm sure they'll hop out as soon as company arrives. Looking at her beside me, dancing along in the sunshine, snug in her winter jacket, I worry that her stubbournness has won out and that she's somehow injured her bladder.
"Here, honey. Have a raisin. I'll have one too. A raisin to go on."
Ignoring my witticism, she gobbled her treat and headed on down the trail to the park. This time, she wanted to play hide-and-seek. Lala ran to a massive maple tree and hid around the other side, peeking her licorice black nose and dark chocolate eyes out at me like some Christmas creation straight out of Santa's workshop. She waited for me to "find" her and then pounced at me, squeaking and barking, laughing at our private game we had invented. Anytime she thinks I might be in need of a laugh or if she's been a bit naughty and wants to make up with me, this is how she does it. It's impossible not to smile along with her.
Eventually, she did find a suitable spot to christen and we made our way back to the apartment, sharing the box of raisins. She was becoming accustomed to the cold air and wintry sunshine. I was glad that the grey of yesterday was gone and we were able to enjoy a walk in the sun. There are less hours of sunshine here in the frozen north and it usually gets me down, being a total lover of sand and sun. At least I have a friend to share it with and a "Raisin D'etre".
Vocabulary
Raison d'etre - French, meaning the reason for one's existence
toque - French, a closely fitted knit hat
cockeyed - with your head tilted to one side
trotting - a slow jog
diligently - showing care
scurried - move quickly with short, quick steps
accustomed - grown used to
