I leash up Buttercup, the golden retriever mystery mutt. and Tulip, the Shichon, which is really just a designer dog name for Bichon/Shih Tsu mix. They are eager to go after a week of waiting the ice to melt and require a run for the first part of our walk. If feels so good to run off the day and to still have some light out.
As we round the corner, I’m out of breath and tell the girls to hold up. I look up and see that it is another Cashmere Cloud kind of day. Soft grey clouds cover the sky like batting while bits of baby boy room blue peak through. Looking up into the trees, I see the wind and ice have left their mark. Large broken limbs are askew, hung up in tree tops like giant javelins waiting to be thrown in the next windstorm.
Another corner and smells of dinner fill the air. Garlic bread and spaghetti on this block, turmeric and cumin on the next.
As we enter our court, the girls suddenly slow down, both reluctant to return. Once home, Buttercup runs to her food bowl and begins to whimper, anticipating another warm meal. I am out of chicken broth to pour over her food and so I put on a pot of water, take the Prime Rib bones left over from Christmas dinner out of the freezer, and set them to boil. Soon, kitchen windows steam and smells of onion powder and black pepper from the roast of Christmas past fill my house and waft their way into the street to tease someone else’s nose.
Tulip and Mr. Fancy Pants, the cat, stretch out next to each other on the floor. We all settle in for the night.