Aches and pains predict the weather. I used to hear this from folks, and <sigh> I guess I have reached that age. These last couple weeks have brought time for ‘hunkering down’ and doing what we need to do to keep warm.
It’s been very NOT fun. My left shoulder has been killing me – as bad as if I had a flare-up of my bursitis. You can’t sleep for the pain; no position is totally comfortable. Finally in simple exhaustion, you find a position that hurts less and you fall asleep for a little while.
Outside, it’s been nasty-ass cold, that combination of temperature, humidity, intermittent rain, and wind that just slices right through any layers you’re wearing. In this area, it’s that gray area in the transition from wet to arctic: 32° to 42°. It’s this temperature band that, in this part of the country, feels colder than standing outside in a blizzard in Nebraska. And I have that on good authority from a friend who has lived there.
Last night, I went out for devotions, considering that the weather was really going to turn, and I only was able to stay out for less than ten minutes. Dara sat close by, having done what she needed to do; pointedly turning away to tell me that she was REALLY ready to go in.
In moments like this, I do and I don’t miss Wheaton. He had an uncanny ability to sense rain coming, and he would start barking insistently until I went in with him. And he would do it even for a passing drizzle. Which we could sit through and be okay. But the insisting about going in no matter what, drove me crazy.
This snapshot was before it got dark and the rain really rolled in, in earnest.
I’d like to tell you that that evening, we got about a half inch of cold rain, but the backup battery in my weather station by the top of the Ravine (just off her right shoulder) quit.
(Davis, if you’re listening, please put in a larger solar panel charging a supercapacitor, instead of the scheme with this darn battery that dies every three months…)
And the last few days have borne out my weather-predicting aches: a REALLY soaking storm, which in going to work, is like driving through a car wash. I’m not going to complain: we’ve been characterized as being in drought conditions for the last couple years. This rain is recharging our well, and bringing snow to the Ridge; which you can see in the photo above.
Meanwhile, our efforts in getting Dara to be more social are bearing some fruit. One of the things that was so great about Wheaton (in the house, at least) was that wherever you were, he was there also. Didn’t matter what you were doing, if you were in a room for a few minutes, he’d come in and check up on you, or come in and hang out. (Outdoors was different – he’d disappear and not reappear until he was good and dirty.)
But Dara was never taught to be social. This isn’t her fault; often times rescue dogs are ‘odd’ in some way, and this is one of her oddities. Typically, we’ll be in one room and after a few minutes, she’ll just ‘check out’ and head off to the bedroom to go lie on our bed. I’ve been working with her to get her to stick around where I am. I have a dog bed out in the sunroom so she can lie down on something soft and a lot warmer than the cold floor.
But look at this! Progress!
What a heart-warming sight! Looking wistfully out the window, and learning to be a Companion…
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