Today is the first time that Wheaton has let me sleep in until my alarm went off. Typically he gets up at 5:15 (which is the time I usually get up anyway) and is anxious to go out. On days where I’m sleeping in a bit, this is usually followed by me saying, “Just a half hour, Wheaton… Go lie down.” A disgusted PLUNK and siiiiiiighhhhh on the other side of the room, and silence until I just… start… to… drop off… again… then begins the thumping about, the click-click-click of toenails, and the flapping of Golden Retriever ears being shaken.
Good for him today, because he lasted until 5:45, and my alarm rang just as he was getting antsy. I think today is also the first time I’ve heard my alarm go off since we’ve adopted him. I’m beginning to joke that I’ll never know if the battery in my alarm goes dead, because there’s a big, friendly Golden alarm that always seems to know what time it is.
It had started to snow just as I got up. I looked out to see the first snowflakes falling on an otherwise green meadow. Checking the thermometer, I decided that I’d better get dressed and grab a coat and hat to take Wheaton out.
Pepper was his usual good-dog self, going out the back door and disappearing to go take care of his needs. I let the storm door close behind Pepper while Wheaton anxiously led me to the back door.
I grabbed the leash and clipped it to an eager dog; we went down the step, and the outer garage door opened to reveal a flurry of a storm outside. We entered the swirling whiteness, Wheaton pulling at the lead, and me marveling at the change in the landscape. Gentle snowflakes brushed my cheeks as we proceeded down toward Wheaton’s typical “number one” spot and while we scouted around for him to find a good “number two” spot.
After Wheaton took care of his needs, he was more than ready for his breakfast, and so he attempted to drag me back to the house.
He’s slowly learning NOT to pull hard on me.
Back inside the garage, I shake off a big bunch of snow from my coat and hat. I also see that Wheaton is completely white along his whole top side. I tried to remember the command they taught him for bath time to get him to shake himself dry… “Wheaton, shake!”
Down goes the butt, and up comes the paw, with a quizzical look…”Why’d you ask me to do THAT?” I find somewhere on him that’s not all white and give him a ‘good boy,’ appropriate praise, and pets.
Let’s try again: “Wheaton, Dry Off!” He immediately steps RIGHT in front of me and shakes wildly, throwing snow all over me. Now ALL of my front side is thoroughly showered with snow.
Wish I hadn’t opened my coat.
Well, I’ll take that, I guess. He did do what I asked…