Snow in the Country

This past weekend Harry joined my family and I for a trip up to our family's wooded hideaway, Kimrie Pines.  Nestled in the country, two and a half hours up north, it was a decent road trip for Harry.  For two and a half hours I held him through his nausea, anxiety, sporadic farts, and loads of involuntary drooling.  Once we arrived, there was white stuff on the ground that Harry wasn't familiar with.  After some thoughtful sniffing and his fur-cousin showing him the ropes, Harry discovered that the white stuff is super fun.

After hours of playing in the snow with his fur-cousin Jager (a handsomely humongous German Shepherd), the two slowed down for some snow investigation.  Harry wasn't giving snow much thought besides running in it, but Jager the snow-pig liked to roll in it, eat it, and bury his face in it.  Not a big fan of getting entirely wet, Harry settled for tasting snow, and eventually showed off by catching snowballs in his mouth.

Harry learned about sledding from his human-cousin and about making snowmen from his human-Aunt.  He also had his first snow hike when he followed me off into the woods for a walk.  Not on our property, but on others nearby, hunting is legal.  There were several instances of the echo of a shotgun which put Harry's danger sensors on alert.  It was like watching Bambi's mom when they got too close to the "meadow".  Of course we were perfectly safe, but watching Harry's pointing instincts, holding one foot off the ground was entertaining.  Surprisingly, and to my delight, Harry stuck by me without his leash on.  Part of me was expecting him to run wild but he stayed close, inspected a few yards ahead of me, and then came back or waited for me to catch up. 

Playing for hours in the snow didn't tire Harry out completely.  He still spent plenty of time afterwards playing hide and seek with his human cousin, pretending to be the evil frog guard of the frog princess castles (my niece's intense story lines), and getting on the nerves of Jager.  Our drive home was much calmer since Harry couldn't keep himself awake to get nauseous.  He did however, blast a toot every time my Dad hit the brakes or pulled a sharp turn probably out of anxiety.  This made for a chilly ride home as the windows rolled down every ten minutes to clear the air of Harry's rancid nerve farts.  Our visit tired Harry out for about a day and half, as he spent the majority of Sunday sleeping in his now flattened out destroyed bed and the couch.  Since there's been a forecast of snow later this week, we might be able to have a chance to play in the white stuff without the road trip of gas and drool!