Banner lets us sleep until we wake, most weekdays, but now that schedules are less predictable, any day is a good day to get up on the bed for a welcome-to-the-morning party, usually reserved for weekends, when someone can keep her occupied while someone else helps her down.  She gets attacks of craziness, much like her distant cousin and former housemate, Parker, where she likes to launch and spin out of control. Except with bad knees, that’s an especially big risk for her.

The past few mornings have been cool enough that she goes outside and comes back in comfortably chilled with wet feet.  Temperature drops, once warm weather has arrived, have positive effects on Newfoundland energy but also create some hearing impairment.  Greg came in a little grumpy, and when I commented, he said, “She didn’t listen to anything I said.”  <g>  I’m familiar with that.  The effect of exuberance can also lead to impaired judgment.  There is no breathalyzer for this.  So yesterday, when I was cooking, and I left the door open so she could smell the smells but be on the patio, it was not shocking when I caught her in the act of pure joy.  Ordinarily, with smells of burgers cooking, she would be on my heels in the kitchen.  But she wandered to the east side of the old barn, where some (probably) cat had relieved itself in an inappropriate location.  There have been two new cats showing up at our house.  I drive an hour to buy the good stuff, so we end up feeding the neighborhood – cats, possums, raccoons.  And there was Banner, upside down, feet flailing wildly, thrusting her head and neck into some really smelly stuff.

Burgers were half-cooked, so I called her and rushed to close the door before she could come in.  Then I texted Greg for HELP!  He was on the mower at another building.  What can I say?  He’s a risk-taker.  He left me to do the cooking.  ; )

He was here in a few minutes and took a turn at bathing the odiferous Newfoundland in the areas affected.  I turned the burner back on and hoped the warm, half-cooked meat sitting for a few extra minutes wouldn’t have another associated penalty.  I’ve been leaving the small dryer on the patio to blow off whatever “stuff” may be on her coat (leaves, dead grass, rain, dust) so he used that to dry her while I finished making our dinner.  She sat nicely, enjoying the stream of air running along her back, shoulders and neck.  Then, to further reward her transgression/joy, she got to go for a ride.  I don’t think the consequences of her actions in any way will deter her from her next opportunity.

Adventure is where you find it, and she has no trouble finding adventure, even when she is sheltering in place. This seems to be her version of “Romancing the stone”.

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