Pedicure Time

I have put this of for too long and both Willow and Nash have long toenails.  This is not one of their favorite activities yet still we can manage without too much distress.  Willow will lay down and let me tip her nails, muscles tense and ready to escape once I let her go.  She grits her teeth and anticipates the pain of cutting too close.  Nash on the other hand, I tie him to the doorknob.   Nail cutting is more of a game for him; he tries to mouth my hands and chews his feet when I try to cut in the prone position.  A short leash on the doorknob works.  I am reminded of a furrier as I move from toe to toe.  A biscuit on the ground out of reach keeps him preoccupied and focused.    I try to make nail clipping a monthly activity to keep the quick short where I usually have to only tip the nail instead of surgically remove have of it for being too long. 

 

Nash’s Turn

 

Nash had his turn at the vets on this day.  A trip to the holistic vet was made this evening to get supplements for his intestinal tract. Nash is such a goofy, happy dog. 

 

Willow wasn’t sure at first if she was going to get a needle on this trip.  I tried to explain it wasn’t her turn and she has a break for a while – at least another week.  Her lymphoma is in remission, but her chemo treatments continue, three more sessions to go.  I have no idea where the money is going to come from after great support from friends, family and the yard sale I almost feel the well is tapped.  The usual winter employment will help, I continue to get a random additional massage clients.  We can do this.  We will be OK.  I know there are angels out there watching over us.  I do love my dogs . . .

Http//:willow.chipin.com/willow

 

When two dogs become one.  . . .

Cool weather Bounce

Now that the leaves have fallen and the chill settles in, at least today, Nash and Willow both have a spring in their step.  Season changes bring on an element of excitement in the dogs.  Nash is obsessed with digging holes as large as burrows to capture the chipmunks. I have markers around the property to warn of unsuspecting divots in the ground.  What’s the use to fill them in, he just digs the hole again.  Besides, I like to watch his fevered focus as he winds down into the earth.   I too get sucked into his mindset and get lost in the moment. I wonder what does he smell, what must it be like to grab a hunk of earth between the jaws and gnarl it loose.   Exaggerated scent of the earth lodged in nostrils, teeth and throat must be uncomfortable, exciting, and powerful.  Nash snorts, hacks, spits and coughs to clear his air passages and dives back into the hole.  Dig, dig, dig. . .   grab, yank, gnarl, hack, spit, snort, sniff . . .  dig, dig, dig.  dirt flees to safety out between his legs to land loose and fluffy.  Dirt once compounded and packed is now free to breath and watch the sky.  My yellow dog becomes half chocolate and half yellow.  I cherish these little moments, how ever destructive they may be, they are only fleeting and lend to such pleasure and happiness.