We got about two and a half feet of snow this weekend. Snow for a little dog owner is no fun because the dogs have a hard time finding a spot to take care of their business. After the first day in the snow, I dug a place under the bush out front and a patch of grass in the lawn for Tildy to do what she needed to do. Apparently, neither spot was good enough and she decided to hold it for two days. Craziness and amazing at the same time.
Yesterday, I had someone clear a path to my car in the back yard. That was all she needed to feel confident in the snow. It must be scary when the ground gives way under you and you sink so deep that you have to hold your head up to be able to see. Now that she had a path and could see dirt and grass, we no longer had a problem.
This morning, when we went outside, it was 12 degrees. I was deterred, but Tildy was determined. She pulled me to the end of the back yard and then started barking frantically. There was a black puppy in a purple knitted sweater. She started barking like crazy and then hid behind a tree. I picked up Tildy because she has the tendency to go after other dogs that we encounter. I think she was a street fighter in a previous life. As I scooped her up, a light brown pit bull mix came up from behind me. Tildy started talking trash and the dog started walking towards us. When I told him to stop, he listened, so the fear in me was calmed. He then walked back to the end of my yard, peed on my trashcan, and took a dump in front of it. Tildy growled and I stood there in disbelief. After he was done, he looked at me as if to say, “Now this is mine. Whatchu got to say ’bout it?!”, then he nudged the puppy and they both walked off.
Just when I thought they were gone, they both doubled back and decided to check out my yard. They walked all the way to the front yard and then looked up and down the street, probably trying to find their way home.
Tildy and I walked all the way to the river and enjoyed the solitude of the frozen park.
On our way back, we encountered a father and daughter, both yelling , “Peanut!”.
“Which one is Peanut?”
“He’s a brown lab.”
“Yeah, right”, I thought. “That’s a pit bull if I ever saw one.” I told the father about my experience with the two dogs. He told me that they had found the puppy, but were still searching for Peanut. I asked where they lived and told them I would keep a look out for their dog, and I walked back to my house. For some reason, I decide to look under my back porch, but I didn’t see Peanut. Since it was so cold, I figured I’d go in the house and just watch for him from my front window. Just as I walked up the steps to the door, Peanut popped out from under the porch. I don’t know how I missed him when I looked under there.
Now that I knew his name, he responded to me in a non-threatening way. I was able to get him to follow me a block and a half down the street. It was obvious that Peanut knew that his house had a fence around it because there were two houses along the way that had fences and he stopped to sniff around them. The last one he sniffed must have smelled familiar to him, because he laid down in front of the fence. Coincidently (or maybe not) his house was directly across the street from that house.
I was able to get him up and delivered him to his home. His owner was so happy that he cried. He was on the phone when he answered the phone and hollered, “He’s home!” A truck pulled up with two crying women inside. They both thanked me profusely.
I had carried 12 pound Tildy on this entire journey and now she was started to feel heavy and I was sweating, but was very happy.