True Minnesota spring

In true Minnesota fashion, the tiniest glimpses of spring we got have been interrupted by another snowstorm. We received a blanket of snow overnight that has yet to let up today. Thatcher and Boden are ecstatic the blustery winter weather has returned. I let them out into the backyard this morning and then poured myself a cup of coffee. When I glanced out the door to check on them, they were both just lying in middle of the yard, contentedly munching on the fresh snow. I bundled up to trek with them to the fields up the street. In fresh, fluffy snow like this, walks end up taking double the time they normally take because every four seconds either a.) the dogs are lying on the ground trying to dig the snow clumps out of their paws; b.) the dogs have stopped to scoop up a few mouthfuls of snow; or c.) Boden is digging out a buried stick or branch.

While on our way to the fields this morning, Boden unburied what looked like a pretty solid stick and carried it for our entire walk. He pretty much always has a stick in his mouth on our walks, so I didn't really pay much attention - not that I could see well anyways with the blowing snow in my face. He frolicked around with this stick the whole time at the park and all of the way back home. As we got back to our yard, I noticed something unusual about it. This stick was actually a shovel. A small, metal gardening shovel. He was so proud of himself, he wouldn't let me or Thatcher get near it. He just pranced around happily, flipping it up into the air and swinging it around. My apologies to the poor neighbor who's now missing their little shovel. Feel free to come claim it, if you can manage to get it away from my proud little puppy.

Snow monsters

Snow day

This morning I woke up to a message from my boss with the most delightful news: snow day. We got something like 5-6 inches of snow overnight, so I was thrilled I did not have to attempt the slow commute to work on the unplowed roads. It's been snowing most of the day, and this kind of weather makes me want to snuggle up, drink tea and read a book. Thatcher and Boden have different ideas in mind, and assume that since I am home with them all day, we should probably spend as much time as possible outside in the snow. You can guess which of us has gotten our way. 

Honestly, this snow is a nice change because it covers up the layers upon layers of ice that have formed along every sidewalk and street from the variations in weather this winter. Yesterday, during our morning walk, I slipped on the ice and fell flat on my bottom. The dogs immediately came to my rescue, jumping all over me and trying to make sure I was alright, but preventing me from being able to get back up. So my bruised tailbone is relieved that the ice is covered up for at least the next couple of days. And until then, Thatcher and Boden are once again the happiest Newfies in the world. 

Home and happy

This past weekend we travelled out of state to visit my brother and sister-in-law. Because my niece is still pretty little, not yet two years old, we thought we'd leave the Newfies at home so we could spend more time with her and less time worrying about them getting into trouble in their house. It was Boden's first time without one of us, and Thatcher has only been left a handful of times. Right from the start, it was a little bizarre not having the dogs. We set out on the road, and eventually realized we didn't have any reason to stop. Usually on road trips, we take breaks at rest areas to let the dogs out to stretch and run. Instead, we were just forced to stop for snacks every hour or two. Once we were there, we had no dogs waking us up early in the morning, no excuse to sneak outside for fresh air, and nothing to worry about when we were out late. Not to mention we only needed to pack half the amount of stuff we normally pile into the car. It was weird.

When we got home on Sunday, the dogs had different reactions. Thatcher ran over and gave his happy growl, then just expected a walk immediately and kept barking at us to take him. Boden was just ecstatic. He is a lot less independent than Thatcher and literally cries with joy when he greets us after we've been gone for a long stretch of time. It's really kind of pathetic and cute at the same time. Even when I get home from work, he rushes over and buries himself in my arms, whining and wagging his tail at the same time. So for the rest of the day Sunday, the dogs did not let us leave their sight. They are not planning on letting us sneak off on another trip without them again anytime soon.

On a bright note (for Thatch and Boden, at least), we have gotten snow three days in a row now. The dogs have been delighted to tromp around and gobble up the fresh snow. Anyone who knows anything about Newfies can relate here. The more snow they are covered in, the happier they are. I sometimes wonder if they even feel cold.  This morning, when I called them in, they just flopped themselves onto the snow and pretended they didn't understand what I was saying.





Oh, January

Since I was just talking about Boden's favorite game (keepaway) in my last post, I thought I should share the video I managed to catch of it this morning. It was freezing and snowing and dreary outside, so it's not the highest quality video, but Boden has a long stick in his mouth. Hence, the gleeful prancing around the snow. He found this stick and ran around with it our entire time we were at the fields today. Sometimes, he carries the sticks he finds all the way home. And better yet, he occasionally manages to sneak them into the house without us noticing. I won't realize this until later, when I find a trail of shredded wood leading to a certain sleeping, "innocent" puppy. 

Keepaway

Boden is always so proud of himself when he finds a treasure before Thatcher does. These "treasures" can be anything really, a dead mouse (luckily this has only happened once so far), a long-lost bone, a piece of food someone dropped in the snow, or in this case a simple chunk of wood. Wood and sticks are his favorite, and he'll happily prance around all of us in circles when he finds a good one. Thatcher, of course, has picked up on the game. In typical big brother fashion, he's learned to pretend he's not interested in whatever Boden has. Boden, seeing he can't get a reaction out of Thatcher, will end up getting bored and will drop the object. This is Thatcher's cue to swoop in and steal it. We watch countless variations of this game on a weekly, sometimes daily, basis. It never gets old.

New day, new year

If we didn't know it was New Year's, it'd be easy to mistake today as just another Tuesday. Another day, another week, another year. Since today is a day of resolutions, Thatcher and Boden would like to share theirs.

Thatcher's goal, similar to millions of humans' goals today, is to shed the extra pounds he has put on this year - particularly since Boden joined our family. He has promised to try his hardest to stop gobbling up all of Boden's puppy food, and to be content with his own (now weight management) food. He has also promised to try to remember that he doesn't need to hoard all of the bones and rawhides in the house. Hiding them in plain sight does not keep Boden from finding them anyways.

Boden's goal is to learn to listen better. He has promised that when we call his name, he will try to come right away, instead of looking at or running over to Thatcher. He has also promised to try to control his bladder once and for all. Although he rarely gets scolded anymore for the occasional accidents he still has overnight, mom and dad do not like stepping in puddles in the morning. Since he holds his bladder perfectly when we are gone for work during the day, he thinks it's reasonable that we expect him to do the same overnight. We have high hopes for this goal.

Here's to another great year with our Newfies, who make us smile at least once every day.

Chasing snowballs

Winter has settled in. The temperature has stayed mostly in the 20s or below, which has kept the snow crusty and the sidewalks icy. Thatcher and Boden are content. They don't seem to even notice the frigid weather. They don't feel sorry for us when we have to pile on layers just to walk them. They just want their walks. In fact, anytime we start putting on shoes or jackets, even if it's to leave for work or errands, the Newfies assume it means they get to go on a walk. They'll pace around us excitedly and follow us to the door. Needless to say, they are frequently disappointed when we close the doors and leave them behind. We've had to change our routine to shorter, more frequent walks rather than the long meandering walks we used to take. An easy way to let the dogs get some exercise in is to take them to the park up the street, which consists of a small playground and mostly vacant soccer and baseball fields. Here, they are free to run. Playing fetch when there's snow on the ground with dogs who are usually apathetic about retrieving consistently is not an option. We would lose far too many balls. So instead, we tromp around the outskirts of the field, throwing snowballs or sprinting ahead for Thatcher and Boden to chase us. We know it's time to head back home when the dogs won't stop lying down in the snow and biting at their paws - ice gets stuck in the hair around their toes and it drives them crazy.

Ice ornaments

Turns out there is one major drawback to the Newfies' long black hair in the winter, and I've never noticed it until this year. Not only does their fur attract snow, but it causes snow to hang in large clumps all over the warmest parts of their bodies (insides of legs, tummies, etc.). It kind of looks like we decorate them with little white beads or ornaments. This effect is especially dramatic on Boden's cobweb-like fur. He gets chunks of snow larger than golfballs hanging from his bottom. At first I thought they'll melt off pretty quickly once the dogs warm up in the house for a bit. But no. Instead, they turn to ice, causing them to stick to the fur even more. Thatcher doesn't seem to be bothered by this. If he actually happens to notice or feel any clumps on himself, he'll calmly lie down and bite it off, just as he does with burrs. But Boden went crazy trying to shake off those suckers, so I helped finger-comb them out the best I could. Now, ice has always been one of their favorite "treats", so when they discovered what I was pulling off of Boden, big balls of icy snow, they excitedly started gobbling up the chunks I removed. At one point, Thatcher tried eating one directly off of Boden's back leg, which made Boden yelp at him. It was quite a site, which resulted in our kitchen floor turning into a small lake. Ah, the joys of winter. 

Thatcher ignoring the little snowballs

Proof. Golfball size

Boden eating the little snowballs

Snowstorm



A fairly large snowstorm swept through the city on Sunday. We ended up getting 10+ inches of snow. It started snowing early in the morning and was still coming down, with no interruption, when we fell asleep that night. Our cars and entire backyard were completely buried. Neighbors cars were stuck on the side of the street. I had to put on full snow gear just to go outside. Walking the dogs was a workout in itself, since we were required to tromp through such deep snow and unshoveled sidewalks. It was one of those days where you just want to curl up inside all day where it's dry, warm and cozy.

Needless to say, the Newfies were ecstatic about the dramatic weather. All day, despite the heavy snowfall and cold temperature, they romped around, leaping through the snow and wrestling into snowdrifts. While we shovelled and cleared the driveway with the snow blower, the dogs merrily chased each other through the backyard. Thatcher has always been a snow dog - he really should live in Alaska or something. But Boden seems to have taken to it just as much. It's funny to watch him, because the snow was almost as deep as he is tall. So he literally has to hop like a bunny to get around, but he loves it. They were not at all happy when I finally made them come in for the night.

Playdate

I'm listening to both Thatcher and Boden snore right now. Our nieces spent the day with us yesterday, and watching over two little girls for that long really tuckers a dog out.

We bundled up to play outside as soon as it was light out. The girls ran around and twirled in the snow. Boden frolicked after them, looking for (and causing) mischief. The Newfies always tend to gravitate towards the youngest kids, so Boden was practically the 3-year-old's shadow. Which resulted in him clumsily bumping into her and tipping her over into the snow, then smothering her with kisses while she was down on the ground. Thatcher, on the contrary, spent most of his time following the girls around with a worried look on his face. He really wasn't sure that they should be rolling down the tiny snowy hill by our driveway, so he stood watch vigilantly at the top of the hill, not taking his concerned eyes off of them. 

Later we walked a couple of blocks up to the local neighborhood park. Our 7-year-old niece insisted on walking Thatcher, and though I was a little worried he might accidentally pull her or cause her to slip on the icy sidewalk, he behaved like an angel. He proudly pranced and led her along, holding the leash in his mouth as if he was guiding her. One neighbor we passed by laughed and said, "That's a lot of dog for a little girl!". Once we got to the park, instead of happily playing, Thatcher kept trying to grab onto one end of his leash to pull us away to safety.This is what he does whenever he senses danger or feel uncomfortable. 

By late afternoon, the girls (and the Newfies) were more than ready for a nap. I tucked the girls into one of the beds and turned on a movie for them to relax to. When I came back upstairs a little bit later to check on them, I walked in to see Thatcher and Boden monopolizing the bed, with the girls squeezed in between them. 

Thatcher standing watch

Boden "helping" her down the hill

Boden "helping" her up the hill

Winter appears

We woke up this morning to the first real snowfall of the year. Hardly any, but a light dusting is covering the ground. Saturday was nearly 70 degrees and Sunday, yet today is cold enough for that little bit of snow to remain. Being born in July, this was Boden's first time experiencing snow. When I let the dogs out earlier this morning, Boden tiptoed down the back steps, confused as to why they were covered in all that cold white stuff. But he quickly discovered the joy of eating it. On our walk, every few steps he would scoop up a mouthful of snow and happily chomp away. He hasn't mastered ice yet though. At one point, he slipped and belly flopped onto the sidewalk. He flailed around like a seal for a few seconds, unable to get his footing, then found his balance and continued on his merry way. Meanwhile, Thatcher, the snow veteran, stood there waiting with an exasperated look on his face. This will be his third winter, so he's already spent many a day tromping through knee-high snow and climbing up snow mountains created by the plows. I just let them out a minute ago to use the bathroom, and Thatcher was already rolling around in the snow.