smitty77
New member
Saturday morning I woke up and let my ten-month old Siberian Husky out of her kennel to play in the newfallen snow. I watched for a few minutes as she walked around the yard, trying to figure out what all of the white stuff was. Before long she was tearing around, having an absolute ball on her new "slip-and-slide" that mother nature created. I went inside to do some chores, promising to take her for a walk that afternoon.
At around 1 pm I went outside to put the leash on her, and it was at this time I noticed a much different look in her eye. What was once a lazy yet curious gaze was transformed into a very intense, purposeful stare. She knew there was more snow out there and she wanted it. She gave me no trouble as I strapped on her walking harness, which usually turns into a wrestling match. :lol: As I walked along the road, she trotted - no, hopped - alongside. Like a rabbit, a 35 lb rabbit jumping up and down in the brush, two to three feet off the ground it seemed, delighted that she was the first to make tracks in the new 1" deep "powder". I now realize why men and women fly helicopters to remote peaks just to be the first to make tracks. She wasn't satisfied until every square inch within her six foot leash range was thoroughly disturbed. We only walked a half mile (we usually do 2) but she was quite worn out. It also seemed to have a calming effect on her; we had our most productive obedience session ever when we got home.
Eventhough she hasn't seen snow since she was 6 weeks old, that primal instinct is still alive and well. Every once in a while she would look up at me as if to say "Thanks for the snow dad! What took you so long getting it here?" Now I know why you skiers start chomping at the bit as soon as the mercury reaches 32.
Thanks for letting me share. It was quite a sight to behold.
Smitty
At around 1 pm I went outside to put the leash on her, and it was at this time I noticed a much different look in her eye. What was once a lazy yet curious gaze was transformed into a very intense, purposeful stare. She knew there was more snow out there and she wanted it. She gave me no trouble as I strapped on her walking harness, which usually turns into a wrestling match. :lol: As I walked along the road, she trotted - no, hopped - alongside. Like a rabbit, a 35 lb rabbit jumping up and down in the brush, two to three feet off the ground it seemed, delighted that she was the first to make tracks in the new 1" deep "powder". I now realize why men and women fly helicopters to remote peaks just to be the first to make tracks. She wasn't satisfied until every square inch within her six foot leash range was thoroughly disturbed. We only walked a half mile (we usually do 2) but she was quite worn out. It also seemed to have a calming effect on her; we had our most productive obedience session ever when we got home.
Eventhough she hasn't seen snow since she was 6 weeks old, that primal instinct is still alive and well. Every once in a while she would look up at me as if to say "Thanks for the snow dad! What took you so long getting it here?" Now I know why you skiers start chomping at the bit as soon as the mercury reaches 32.
Thanks for letting me share. It was quite a sight to behold.
Smitty