dog days of winter

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mud2

The gravel path encircling the dog park is churned to mud. Wood chips, spread last season to fill in low spots, now form a waterlogged sponge underfoot. The sky, pale blue and cloudless, does not belie that we are in mid-dreary-chilly January. It bears a sense of oppression, making one inclined to slouch when walking, as if to clear a low ceiling.

The dogs don’t seem to mind the damp chill. Puddles, gritty mud, soggy clumps of sod… it’s all the same to their weather-hardened paws. There are balls to chase, fence posts to water and all manner of smells to sniff.

After a couple of plodding loops around the field, I catch up to my pup, who has paused to stick his nose up a Doberman’s butt. I latch the leash to his collar and we head out of the park. I sidestep pools of standing water, morosely noting that the rainy season has only just begun. My dog plows straight through the water, tongue flopping, slobber hanging off his chin. He — obviously — has failed to notice that we are in mid-fricking-depressing January.

gnarled bare tree shivers
arthritic branch points skyward
lays blame on winter

mud1

dVerse Haibun Monday: January

22 thoughts on “dog days of winter”

  1. I miss walking the dog. The last time I did that was when I visited my daughter and we took her two to the park. It’s a time for taking in your surroundings and pondering – which is what you’ve done in your haibun, Maggie, and took me with your. I couldn’t help chuckling at the pup with its nose up a Doberman’s butt! Great phrase: ‘arthritic branch points skyward’.

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  7. I miss those mud-splashy messes… got to hand it to our dogs… they find cheerfulness in all circumstances.
    Cheer up a bit- I hear we will be sunny and high of 57 later in the week!!

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