Equal Parts

When we got out of the car this morning, I was equal parts excited and terrified. I'd been whining in the car -- at one point even barking -- as we drove down the bumpy, snowy road to our favorite ski spot at Snoqualmie Pass. We haven't been skiing in so long, I was beside myself with joy.

Then Gretchen pulled out my red coat AND my black booties. I cowered in the corner of the car while she and Ann bundled up, put on their ski boots, and packed up their bags for the trip.

The joy was still there -- that tingling in my belly and shaky anticipation of running pell mell in the deep snow -- but the fear of my red coat and black booties gripped me and all the whining and whimpering of excitement strangled at the back of my throat.

Gretchen tells me that there are some things that spark irrational fears. For her it's the sight of snakes. No matter how much she tries to steal herself for their appearance, when a snake slithers by she jumps and runs the other way. "I can't control it," she tells me, "My body doesn't listen to my mind and the next thing I know, I'm sprinting as far away from the snake as my old legs will carry me."

That's how I feel about my red coat and black booties. When we were packing up this morning at our house, I saw Ann head for the closet where both the demons are kept and instantly, I found a safe hiding place on the stair landing where I could escape to the upstairs bedroom if need be. All morning long, while the boots and the poles and the ski clothes were organized and packed, I shook on the landing and leaned toward an escape whenever I saw red or heard that tell-tale sound of velcro ripping (the underbelly of my coat and the tie downs for my boots).

It's irrational, I know, and I can't seem to control the fear that overwhelms me, but once in the car, heading up to the mountains, I forget about the horror of those items and sleep with dreams of romping in the deep white snow.

So when we arrived at the turn off for our favorite ski spot, I was thrilled and exuberant -- we were going to play in the snow!!! Only when the red flashed and the velcro ripped did that fear seize me and I headed for the safest spot I could find -- smashed up behind the driver's seat shaking in terror.

But there's no avoiding it. I knew I was trapped in the car - no escape to the upstairs bedroom this time -- so when I was summoned, I obeyed and let Gretchen strap me into my red coat and my black booties. I certainly didn't want to be left behind while they had all the fun now did I?

Ann and Gretchen laughed at me then. Not in fun, but at my dance of mixed emotions. I was so happy to be in the snow, so thrilled as the snowflakes tickled my nose that the fear of my apparel made me scurry and hop as I tried to flick the booties from my paws and shake the coat from my back. Gretchen calls me a bucking bronco. I suppose I am, but mostly I'm in battle with myself. Which will win out -- my excitement or my fear?

I should know the answer to this deep philosophical question because about 15 minutes into the ski adventure, I've forgotten all about what I'm wearing. Instead, I'm racing from one mom to the next, eating treats from their gloved hands and licking snowflake-covered lips. Only occasionally, when we stop to get a drink of water or pause for a quick snack do I gnaw at my booties and twitch at my coat. No with any seriousness, but with just enough annoyance as to let everyone know that my life would be perfect if I were, shall I say, naked.

But then we get back to the adventure and it's all anyone can do to contain my joy. I am a tight bundle of excited energy and I race on the trail, bounding in the deep snow catching a scent of squirrel (or perhaps something bigger) while Ann and Gretchen push along the path with a swoosh swoosh swoosh of their skis.

Back at the car, when we are all tired and happy and ready for something warm, I leap into the car exhausted. Gretchen calls me to her and tries to take off my dreaded attire -- the boots and the coat I've forgotten about -- and then she changes from her cold boots and chilly clothes into something warm. I curl up into a ball listening to the snow fall all around our car and wait, happy and patient, for the long drive home. I am equal parts exhausted and content; tired and blissful with only faint memories (and sour whiffs) of my red coat and black booties drying in the back of the car.

A Very Merry

This is my friend Tucker. His smile, I believe, represents my recent holiday vacation. We didn't go very far away at least, not as far as we've gone in the past nor did we stay away too long, but our time away at the Grandparent's house was filled with love, fun, and food. Who could ask for anything more?
Not I, as you can see. I got to play fetch with Tucker as well as wrestle a bit with my wild cousin, Ringo.
Ringo is a good guy, but he can't help his Terrier qualities -- gnashing teeth, the need to poke and bite at the most inappropriate times, his possessiveness of people, places, toys, and food, and his undying persistence to annoy me as well as his older sister, Hope.

Still, in small doses, he's lots of fun.
Usually we head to Ringo's house for Christmas, down south in Oregon, but this year we met at Grandma and Grandpa's house a little over an hour away. It was nice not to have to travel so far though the house in Oregon has a really big yard where Ringo and I can wear each other out.

Things were a bit cramped this year, but not too badly. The problem is, of course, the problem we face every year -- too many presents! We all had to dance around, in our holiday clothes, the boxes and bags filled with cooking utensils, socks, and oodles of gift cards. The only presents sensibly out of the way were hung in huge stockings. I even got one (green one on the end) and it contained toys, squeakies, and the most interesting gift of all, an edible greeting card. Yum!I am so busy these days with my work blog that I haven't been very good at keeping up this one. I'm told that this is the time of year when one makes resolutions, resolving to do some things differently. Okay, I resolve to keep up with this blog more. I also resolve to eat my meals on time (something I'm not very good at), listening better when I am called, and visiting my relatives more often...even my silly cousins, Hope and Ringo.