Just a little chilly....

Today was the first really cold day of winter; in the 30s with a strong wind making it feel much colder. Despite the cold, Ray and I decided to chance it and see if anyone was at the dog park. After donning two pairs of socks, a pair of long underwear, a pair of pants, an undershirt, a long sleeve shirt, a sweatshirt, a neck gaiter, a wool hat, boots, a Carhartt coat (they weigh about 10 pounds), and a pair of dog-walking mittens (my own design - two strands of thick wool knitted together), I was ready to go. Ray whined through the whole dressing process and all the way to the park. He dragged me to the gate and excitedly entered the park only to find that all his friends were wusses and that he was the only one there.

The blind hound despondently poked around for while, sniffing here and there and dejectedly peeing on this and that, until I took pity on him.

"Do you wanna go for a walk, Ray?" I asked my lonely dog.

Ray looked at me from the middle of the park, his head cocked to one side.

"C'mon Ray, let's go," I said as I walked toward him.

Ray turned and idly walked away.

I picked up my pace a bit.

"C'mon Ray, let's go for a walk," I repeated.

Ray picked up his pace, putting a bit more distance between us.

Two could play at that game. I jogged toward him (at least, as much as I could while weighed down with 50 pounds of clothing).

"I'm going to get you," I said to my dog.

Ray jogged away, trying to stall until one of his friends arrived. I followed after him, calling and whistling (neither of which ever works - I don't know why I bother) then turned and headed for the gate. Ray heard the latch open and stopped his evasive maneuvers. I stepped through the gate and let the latch fall into place.

"Bye, Ray," I called.

Ray paused briefly then worriedly made a beeline towards me, fooled by the oldest trick in the book.

I let him through the gate, slipped his collar over his ears, and took him for a nice brisk walk.