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First Snow Day.

December 2, 2007

Our greyhound Gracie has two winter coats; not because she is a little frou-frou dog or we’re the kind of people who dress up animals – some friends are raising eyebrows – but because as a greyhound she has thin skin, very short hair and virtually no body fat.

There are companies that make coats specifically for these tall, lean dogs: lightweight coats for fall, slickers for rainy weather, and gortex type ones lined with polyester for mean Midwestern climes. I bought two: one for fall and one for this already nasty winter. N and I have not been together long and I suspect on some level we are kinda, sorta behaving a little like parents.

It snowed yesterday for the first time this season and as if that wasn’t enough to shock Gracie experiencing her first taste of cold, we were dumped upon with sleet as well. Having lived and raced in Florida, she looked out the kitchen window at the strange change in her usually green vista, with – I don’t want to anthropomorphize, but – she seemed to have a look of incredulity on her face; the skin on her forehead had furrows. And that was before I took her outside.

Because of the cold her snazzy red winter coat was called for, making her look a little like “Santa Greyhound,” but it keeps her warm; a fashion statement she’s not. I opened the back door and she hesitantly placed one elegant pointy toed paw onto the white ground; her foot slid and she immediately stepped back into the house. As it was time for her bathroom duties, I had to persist and finally coaxed her onto the polished surface, having difficulty staying upright myself. Like two toddlers in their mother’s high heeled shoes, we teetered over to the grassy area which was not yet completely covered in white. The wind was howling making what was not yet frozen to the ground, whip up into one’s face. I don’t know if the cool air stung her backside as well, or rather the delicate area under her tail, but she started to careen in circles around me as if a rocket had been lit under her, her skinny legs and feet sliding in different directions. Or maybe the cold air made her feel extra frisky, I don’t know, but we were on a mission and because she can be a prima donna when it comes to doing “her bathroom duty,” I had no intention of having to repeat this circus act anytime soon.

After being outside longer than I had originally intended, I realized it was a total waste of time expecting “anything” to happen; Gracie became her other self, her doppelganger: this streak of demon red whipping around in circles scrunching into the semi solid surface made me nervous that she would cause an injury to herself. Or me. I was at the other end of her leash.

Dashing Through the Snow.

Copyright © 2007

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