Shadow's tenth winter

It's a marshmallow world out there, and Shadow-dog is not impressed. It's his tenth-eleventh winter already (well, he'll be ten years old at the end of January) and he's never liked snow much, being more like a cat than a dog in many ways. Cuddling is cool, cold weather is not!

Trying to get him to go for a winter walk can be a challenge, especially on grey days. And it's something of an effort, too -- first, to get him to come out of his cosy bed and make his way to the back door (liver treats sometimes help), then to get him into his boots, leash harness, and winter coat (over his cozy blue sweater). 

Then he stands there looking like he wishes he was back in the land of his ancestors (Havanese are descendants of the dogs that once belonged to Cuban royalty), and who can blame him? If I could teleport to a beach near Havana, I probably would.

Considering dog years, he's officially been a senior citizen for quite some time already, and honestly, there are days I can relate. His back end isn't as perky as it used to be when getting up off the couch, and I did something to my hip this morning while running to the bus. Ouch.

It's been quite a while since I've taken Shadow on a 5 km walk, as it's probably time to have mercy on his (probably) achy little body. But it's just not the same walking without him -- he's motivated me to get out and go for the past almost ten years. Suddenly my own walks are shorter to accommodate him. And would I go for a long walk without him? Only with a friend. Or maybe I need to start listening to Ebooks/podcasts to make solitary walks more interesting?

Shadow is less of a walking companion now, and more of a meditation buddy. He climbs out of bed to come snuggle with me every morning as I settle in for tea and prayer time. And perhaps that's actually more important at this stage... we're both getting older, moving toward the winter of life, Shadow and I. But we're still doing things together.