As everyone in the U.S. knows, the whole country is experiencing some frigid weather, and it’s only going to get worse. Though Izzy seems to get invigorated by cold weather, I don’t, so when we had a chance to visit a fellow writer in Durham this weekend, we took it . . . especially since that writer has a dog and a fenced-in yard.
Izzy hates riding in the car. As soon as he knows we’re going somewhere, he commences shivering. Nothing helps. I put on his Thundershirt whenever we have to take a ride, I’ve bought him a sheepskin seat that basically boxes him in so he’ll feel safe, and I’ve given him treats. Still, he shivers. But since going out in the car often results in a positive experience, I keep taking him (though it breaks my heart to see him sitting beside me, tongue hanging out, his little body shivering and quaking as if he is convinced I’m taking him somewhere that will result in pain and horrors beyond imagination). Funny, because he rarely goes to the vet’s and absolutely loves going to the groomer’s and our visits to friends far outweigh the vet visits. I think it’s the actual traveling itself that has him terrified, which is why I bought the seat for him. Suffice it to say, he’s going to continue traveling with me, shivering or not.
Yesterday’s visit resulted in a pure, unadulterated treat for him. Our walks are always leashed. Rarely does he have the pleasure of running freely since he cannot seem to get himself to listen to my calls to “come” when he’s free. Being in a fellow dog’s fenced in yard is something akin to my feelings of bliss when I have a dish of salted caramel ice cream topped with hot fudge in front of me. Orgasmic!
Nothing makes me happier than seeing my little guy running as fast as he can, ears flying, tongue hanging out, eyes bright. If he could, I’m sure he’d be yelling, “yippppeeeeeeeee!” as loudly as he could. You know how sometimes you can “hear” a dog’s voice without actually hearing it? Some dogs have deep, Southern drawls (basset hounds), while others have foreign accents (poodles) and others are likely to be intellectual (bulldogs) while some would sound like hippies (yellow labs). I imagine Izzy’s voice to be fast and chatty, an adolescent’s nonstop silliness in a high-pitched, friendly, happy tone.
He still glances at me questioningly whenever I open the door to my friend’s backyard, as if to say, “You’re coming too, aren’t you, Mom?” but to see him enjoy being a dog with Alfie, my friend’s rat terrier/bully mix, is worth driving him shivering to the next doggie play date.
Fly, Izzy, fly!