Whew! The air has changed. The dogs felt it immediately (well, so did I). I immediately seized this opportunity to take James for a long early morning stroll. At 12 1/2 years of age, James is termed a senior dog. Heat and humidity, the kind we had all last week is especially hard on an aging dog, as it is on an elderly person. I had to stop walking James all together last week. Even taking him out really early in the morning for a very short walk was too much.
James loves his walks and wants to go – always. But, desire and physical ability don’t match up in the kind of heat wave we’ve been experiencing. James had a hard time breathing. His steps would falter. It became clear that this senior dog was better off waiting out the heat wave from inside the cool house, lying flat on the slate floor.
This morning was perfect. A robin’s-egg-blue sky, brilliant sunshine, a gentle breeze, and 58 degrees with relatively little humidity, made for perfect walking conditions. This morning’s walk time was dedicated completely to my boy James. The girls (Annie and Lily), ages 6 and 4, are capable of handling harsher conditions. Who knows how long perfect weather will last.
James bounced to his feet when his purple lead was fetched from the coatroom. He literally galloped to the front door and off we went. James loves to stroll. He takes in everything around him. He sniffs the ground, laden with the scents of animals scampering about in the night. He slowly sidles down to the bank of a babbling stream to his dabble his paw in the cool water. He saunters down to the large barn part-way down the run where he stands patiently looking for the 10 barn cats that hang out in the tall grass and over on a neighbor’s porch where food and water have been set out. He never seems quite satisfied until he has spied all 10 of these elusive felines.
Today, James and I took the gravel road that leads out into the farmers large pasture. Slowly, we both walked, taking in the beauty of the hayfield aglow with golden wildflowers. In the heat of the summer, this board open field would be impossibly hot to view. James stopped by the barbed wire fence to communicate with the large momma steer and her two youngsters, one brown and white, the other brownish-black. The trio stood up against their fencing staring out at James. James stood fascinated, tail wagging slowly back-and-forth. When I tugged at James’ lead, indicating time to head back, he kept tugging me in the opposite direction not wanting to leave the bucolic scene behind. Tomorrow, boy, I told him. They say another nice day tomorrow. And, it’s all for you. My senior dog always gets extra special treatment.