Suddenly, there were rain drops falling on the roof and striking the window glass. Heavy rains were due this afternoon, and my leisurely Sunday morning turned into an urgent set of activities. The dogs had to go outside first, before the downpour began. This storm appeared to be long in duration, so a break may not come for a long time. The cats and Whippoorwill had not yet been fed. After running the dogs outside, while still in my sleeping shirt, I grabbed the raincoat out of the closet and rushed out to the barn. The cats were nowhere, as cats aren’t fond of being wet. I scooped Whippoorwill’s breakfast, slogged through the already soaked pen and fed her under the shelter of the barn. Summer, with its long drought, was clearly passing. There had been rain a few days earlier. It was time to re-orient to the wetter season approaching.
A warm breakfast sounded good, so I opened the refrigerator door to see what inspiring items may be inside. There was no bacon, but a little cherry-smoked ham was left. Banner and I tasted it to be sure it was good but decided to leave it out of the scrambled eggs. There was spinach and carrots, leftover from cooking dinner for Banner last night, but that didn’t stimulate the senses, mine anyway. Eggs with cheese seemed good for this morning, along with some reheated macaroni and cheese casserole. It was sufficient to meet nutritional demands for the moment. The dogs thought it sounded delicious. Recently, Banner has retreated to a puppyhood behavior on the kitchen, so I had to bring out the “No Noses” rule: No noses on counters, no noses on stoves, no noses on food. Her nose had picked up each aroma and led her to further examination. I explained, yes, it smells good, but I don’t have to put my nose on the stove to cook the food. To which she responded with a change in expression. I felt as though I was making what would be short-lived progress, so I continued. I have to use my hands, but, as Greg would remind her, I have opposable thumbs. Some people don’t have thumbs, and they can still cook, so I have no doubt that you would be able to learn how to do some of these things but let me do it myself for now.
Using a microwave, breakfast was ready in minutes, finished by a cup of hot tea. Wet, cool weather begs for hot tea, in particular #55 tea from Smith’s. This is tea! The leaves are long rather than crushed, so the fine particles don’t flow through the tea basket, making the tea more bitter. This special blend will lift your senses.
I fed Banner a good serving of eggs and a couple of bites of macaroni and cheese. I watch her “figure” and condition better than I watch my own. I have more presence of mind for the Newfs than myself in general, but Newfs are only here for a short time, and you know you should make it last. Eventually, awareness seeps in that this is true for humans also.
Banner seemed sore in her right knee, so I asked if she needed a certain pill. No response. I asked again. No response. Lately she seems to think I should just *know* stuff without her having to respond, so I’ve gone back to question exercises. When she blinks to respond affirmatively, I address that need. But, sometimes you have to ask the question in the right context. So I asked, “Does your knee hurt?” Yes. OK, I thought so. Wondering if one type of med was creating irritation in her GI tract, I gave her an alternative one. She seemed eager to take it, like she usually is for the other. She usually responds firmly to the first question. So, as she is observant, perhaps she is right, that I really do know when I ask the question. But, being human, with her not being able to speak my language, I want a method of being sure. So I teach her that I respond based on her answer when she answers questions. Her answers are reliable, most of the time. Sometimes my questions need improvement. But our communications generally improve as time goes on. Life with each Newf is an adventure, and communication is near the heart of all experiences.
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