Oh Yes He Did

I leave notes to myself on everything from check stubs to recipes, about subjects I want to rememember to write about. Then I shuffle papers around and lose those notes. I have now taken to using the voice recorder feature on my cell phone to record musings about topics I want to address; I do this on my way home from work as the roads are winding and it is always dark when I come home. There's no way to type that into the notes section of my phone and it is also now illegal to text while driving. Plus, it is deer season and those suckers will pop up anywhere at any time. I do not want to be messing with my phone and look up to see antlers coming through my windshield!

One of the ever so poignant stories that I should have written two weeks ago was about the White Husky, Gunnar. G-man and I were getting a late start (7am) as it was a weekend and the snow was falling. After donning the "winter wardrobe" I went out to see him. He was peering through the fence of his outdoor kennel so I went over to say hello before loading Old Man Taylor with wood.

I noticed there was some blood smeared on the snow in front of Gunnar and I immediately started to worry that he had done something to his teeth again. Actually what I thought was, "He is not getting another grand out of my wallet!" I looked at his legs and there was a little blood on his front left paw, but he was happy and dancing around on all fours. I looked through the fence to try to find any indication that he had done more than pull a toenail, and I decided to head into the barn to get him dressed for his walk. He was still happy and jumpy and moving all extremities so I decided to walk him as far as we could: that means walk him as far as I could go before I dropped, and when wearing insulated overalls, winter coat, scarf, hat, gloves, and huge boots, that is not more than two miles. I've tried.

We have a wonderful winter walk and then I put Gunnar into the barn with his breakfast. I go into the outdoor kennel with a shovel to remove some of the frozen "tootsie rolls" stuck to the ground. I'm half way through this process when I see the most gruesome sight: blood everywhere on a lower section of the kennel post closest to the gate. I mean, the post is coated with blood. It looks like a murder took place: it is reminiscent of the criminal investigation shows that are on TV. I had my very own "NCIS" episode in Gunnar's kennel.

However, it only took me a few seconds to solve the mystery.  I had all of these images--a video montage if you will--of Gunnar in his outdoor kennel the first few months we lived here: he is happy to see me as I walk towards him, but frustrated that he can't yet get to me for one of his polar bear hugs.  When he is in this state of excitement, he always stands up near the kennel gate and licks the post--I have no idea why he does this. I've never even cared why he does this, because after having Wulf in the family for six years, a compulsive furniture licker and cheek rubber (on carpet), I don't try to figure out animal behavior anymore.

Gunnar had actually gotten his tongue stuck to the kennel post in subzero temperatures! Seriously! I turned toward him because he was by now done with breakfast and he flew through the dog door to see what I was doing. I tried to put my fingers in his mouth and get him to kiss me at the same time--I had to gain tongue visibility.  Gunnar ate his food just fine, chewed it on both sides of his mouth (I did check for that; I'm a good mommy), so I just assumed he had enough tongue left to carry on with life. I also prayed that this lesson would teach him something and that he'd never, ever do that again...

When I came back into the house, I chewed my husband for not giving his youngest son, "the talk." Bill was bewildered and had no idea what "talk" he had failed to give to the G-man. He was probably thinking of the "birds and the bees" talk, but as I recounted the story of the murder scene to him, Bill realized he needed to mention the "don't stick your tongue to metal stuff in winter" story to all five of the kids. I'm not very confident that he's had that talk yet and am pensively waiting with a measuring cup full of warm water every time Wulfie goes outside!