Homebodies - Changing it up

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Published on Saturday, November 18, 2017

Rita Friesen
Neepawa Banner & Press

For the past few mornings, the dogs and I have been going for a before breakfast walk. Several reasons for this- it’s not as windy earlier in the day, we are wide awake by 6:30 a.m. anyway, and the days are filled with want to dos and must dos. We had broken our walking pattern. A month of welcome house guests does that. When Marie, from Victoria, was visiting, the weather was mild and we took long walks, around Park Lake, down the Trans Canada Trail in the low lands, out and around. When Bea, from Australia, was out the weather had settled in to cold and windy.

The first day I allowed her out with what she thought was a winter weight jacket. The next day I offered her a Canadian winter weight jacket and she wore it for the duration. We took more frequent, shorter walks. And tried a different walking formation. Henry Hoover had strained a leg leaving the bed and no longer wanted to share a leash with his bossy sister. Miss Daisy had little patience with his need for a slower pace and inevitably tugged him off balance when he cocked his leg. Henry Hoover was not happy. We allowed them their own leashes and suddenly Hoover no longer limped, and in fact, took the lead on the trail. We picked up speed.

So my guests are gone and I have maintained the two leads walks. There are times when I need to do some high stepping to avoid being toppled by twisting leashes, and that’s not all bad either, a whole new set of muscles are involved. This before breakfast walk is brisk. Miss Daisy hears her food calling from the time we leave the house until she is fed. The weather has been perfect; not so warm that their feet become snowballs, and not so cold that they hippity- hop showing me their feet are cold and we need to get home. There is another benefit, for me, in watching my world wake up. The progress of the sun breaking the darkness, the last stars fading from sight, lights going on in homes as we walk past, the quiet crunch of our feet on the snow. The silence. My path hasn’t changed, still up the street to the cemetery and back, my perception of the path changes.

That, for me, is the wonder of walking. Same trail every day, and yet, always something new. When I did the final lock up last night the scent of skunk was heavy in the air. This morning that smell was distinct two blocks away with cute little footprints in the snow. I kept a close hold on my dogs, just in case. We were up before the birds this morning. There is a jay that sasses us, a junco that examines us, and a crow that often escorts us. No barking dogs in the early morn. Not certain how long I will be an earlier riser, for now it’s a pleasant change.