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HomeDecember 16, 2010 Home is a big dog curled up on your bed, going for the usual long walk in the morning, then downloading e-mail and starting to work while the oatmeal cooks and the water boils for tea. One of the many joys of my travels was that at Lynn's house I had a dog curled up on my bed. This is Sasha:
Sasha's father was a golden retriever; her mother was a mix of Labrador retriever, German shepherd, and Siberian husky. She looks like a golden with Sibe coloring and a Sibe undercoat. The Nygaards chose leather sofas on Sasha's account: fur sticks to fabric, but it slides off leather. I brought some Sasha fur home on my fleece jacket, jeans, and various other articles of clothing. Travvy was very interested. Having done some serious sniffing, he could probably tell me a good deal about Sasha, though not as much as I told Sasha about him. When I went to pick him up at Animal Health Care, Travvy was all wiggly and excited, less because I was there -- though he did notice! -- than because he'd just come inside and there were all sorts of smells and sounds to catch up on. We went out the back way because there was considerable activity, feline as well as canine, in the reception area. Managing Travvy while carrying both my bag and his was almost too much, so I dumped the bags in the car and we went for a short get-reacquainted walk. At first the world was way, way too exciting, then basic commands -- sit, front, down -- started getting through, though with plenty of wiggle in the execution. This dog needed some real exercise, so I carried the Red Menace (which stayed in the apartment while I was gone) down the stairs, put Travvy's harness on, and we went for a bike ride. I didn't want to overdo it, since he hadn't had any remotely strenuous exercise in 10 days, but along the bike path he saw a Bernese way up ahead and decided to run. Exhilarating! I didn't have to pedal. Trav didn't try to follow the Bernese when it took one of the paths into the nearby subdivision. Good puppy! I left him home alone when I went to rehearsal at 5. If he wanted revenge for being abandoned for nine days, this was the time -- but whether because he'd blown off the excess energy or because I left him with the usual peanut-butter-slathered bones and a toy with treats inside it, he was fine. The apartment was intact when I returned an hour and a half later. Trav has shown a distinctly proprietary interest in my new slippers, however. This is not surprising, because they do look like stuffies, even if they don't squeak. When I'm not wearing them, I put them out of reach.
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