Farley here,
My peeps love snowshoeing. They’ve been holding back because of my feet issues.
Check this out. I’ve got my own snow shoes. They may not stop me from sinking in the snow, but they do keep ice from building between my pads. I can go for hours now.
This is me doing the happy roll . . .
This is me sitting regally, looking especially handsome in my new shoes.
I can even run in them. Check this out. You won’t believe how fast I can run.
Woof Woof.
Farley here,
AARG! Look what my humans have done to me.
So it’s below 20 degrees celsius in this country? So ice forms in my pads and hurts me? Is that any reason to make me wear Kristina’s socks tied on with a blue elastic? I think they’re the running socks she wore this morning. What if one of my pals saw me. I don’t exactly look PAWsome.
But I like to think I can outsmart the silly humans. Not long into the walk, I discover if I slip my tooth underneath the elastic I can pull off the sock. Matt puts it back on each time, but both get the point I don’t like the fashion statement I’m making.
We get back to the house, and I eavesdrop on their conversation. They’re taking me to Chopper’s Pet Supplies in town, and I get to choose new booties. Really, making me go in public wearing used sweat socks and a blue elastic. Grrr.
Woof Woof.
Farley Here,
A monster attacks Matt. I bark and whine and run in circles. I have to save him.
“What is this monster?” I bark.
Matt can’t hear me over the thunderous scraping and banging.
My sharp, strong teeth grab the edge of the monster and pull. Matt pulls back. I think he’s trying to save me. What a dummy. I’m trying to save him.
This goes on for an hour. I’m exhausted, but I’ve kept Matt alive.
We live another day to fight the snow monster.
Woof Woof
Farley here,
I’m terrified. A vat of boiling water sits in my back yard. Right outside the backdoor. After a snowfall, this thing looks harmless, scenic even. But’s it’s a dangerous place.
Once the snow stops, my humans do something really dumb. They shovel the snow off the lid. They have a ritual. Kristina puts towels near the back door.
I start to whine.
“Shh,” Kristina says.
I whine louder.
The crazy humans ignore my warning and walk across the snow in their bare feet. They don’t have fur like I do. This can’t be good for them. Now you won’t believe the next part. They actually get in the boiling water. Who get’s in boiling water, I ask you.
“Get out,” I bark.
“No,” Kristina says.
But does that mean no barking or no, I’m not getting out? Things get worse. Kristina and Matt both have a useless sense of smell. I’m not sure they smell anything. My house backs onto a forest. In the evening, wildlife are active. I can smell a bear, cougar, or a moose even if I can see the creatures.
I run to the back off the hot tub, lifting my front paws off the ground, and sniff wildly. “There is a bear on the ridge,” I bark.
“I wonder what he smells?” Matt asks.
“Should we get out?” Kristina asks.
“Yes. Yes. Yes,” I bark.
“No,” Matt says. “He’s just mad we’re in the hot tub and not playing with him.”
I give up. I run to the front of the house. lie down, put my paws over my eyes and hide. The bear scent is ebbing, so I know it’s walking away from us. We’re safe. This time. But how do I keep my peeps out of the hot tub?
Woof Woof.
Farley here,
The doorbell rings. I blast out my doggie bed, slide across the newly stained hardwood floor and hustle down the stairs.
I push my human, Matt, out of the way. It’s very Important I get to the door first. There could be danger on the other side. There could be a friend. You just never know. I choose friend and wag and wiggle as best I can.
I can’t open the door by myself. I bark at Matt, wiggle some more. Doesn’t he get the urgency. “Come on, buddy,” I bark.
I then I hear it. A voice I’ll never forget. It’s Joe. I’m sure it’s Joe. I haven’t seen him since I was one. That’s five years.
I jump up, trying to get Matt to hurry. He laughs and opens the door. I explode through.
We bound, we rough-house, we run around in circles. The humans stand back and watch.
My muscles are sore, I’m panting hard. I think It’s time for a break. I invite Joe in to share my bed. We used to snuggle together all the time, but something has changed.
This is us 5 years ago.
This is us now.
I think the bed got smaller, but I still love Joe.
Woof Woof.
Farley here,
I don’t want you to feel sorry for me, but I hurt my shoulder this week, and I used gestures to let Kristina know I had a boo boo. The only problem with my gestures is I made her sad instead of making myself feel better. Sometimes I wish I could talk.
Kristina loves to interpret my gestures, and she always errs on the soft side. Sometimes I’ll be bad, and she’ll read something positive into it. I chewed Matt’s sock this week, and Kristina said it was because I was hurt and wasn’t getting enough exercise. How cute.
What she doesn’t know is Matt waits until she’s not around, his eyes twinkle – that’s his gesture for we’re about to be mischievous but don’t tell Kristina – and he runs to the sock drawer. Yup you heard me. There’s a magic place called the sock drawer. Matt rolls his sock into a ball and throws it at me, repeatedly. He thinks it’s funny when I play with his sock. I chewed the sock because ripping material with my teeth is satisfying. My behaviour has nothing to do with lack of exercise, but just in case you’re worried, I know not to chew Kristina’s socks.
So back to my injury. I was playing with my friend Beans, and I don’t know what happened. One minute all was fine. We were rolling around in the mud at the base of the ski lift station, and the next minute, sharp pain drove through my shoulder.
At first I pretended nothing happened, but half way home, I had to admit to the pain and I started to limp.
Kristina and Matt slowed down for me. We were almost to the house when I remembered a gesture that gets her every time. I sat and raised my paw. This is my universal signal for something is wrong with me.
My softie of a human turned around, came back for me and then . . . She picked me up and carried me home. I weigh 42 pounds and am a bit awkward to carry, but she didn’t care. I could feel her heart pumping against me. She was worried. I didn’t mean to make her worry, I just wanted a ride home.
When we got home, I curled up on her lap and cuddled her. Her heart rate lowered, and she began to relax. I was trying to tell her I was okay and she shouldn’t worry. But she’s a human. Worry seems to come naturally to them.
Later, just to make sure she’s okay, I’ll sleep in bed with her.
Woof Woof
Farley here,
The snow’s a-comin! British Columbia is turning into a Wheaten Terrier paradise.
Running in the snow is awesome. I never overheat and I can eat the stuff if I get thirsty.
Snowballs stick to my fur is not so awesome. What’s a dog to do?
I mean literally what’s a dog to do?
Anyone have any idea how to get this stuff off my nose? I’d really like some advice, and please don’t say stop rubbing my nose in the snow. I’m having too much fun, and there is now way I can control the urge. I keep telling Kristina is an instinct. She’ll believe anything I woof at her, but it’s really about playing.
Woof Woof
Farley here,
I’m a dog who has lived on a boat in the Bahamas since I was 9 month old. All of a sudden, my humans decide enough of the sea life, it’s off to the mountains we go. British Columbia to be exact.
At first, I thought they were crazy. But now, I’m rethinking this situation.
Did you know leaves fall off trees in the fall? No one told me that.
Did you know a dog has more energy in cold temperatures? I didn’t either.
Did you know sticks are free in the forest? I’m kinda figuring this one out on my own.
Rolling in leaves while chewing on a stick is the best. I miss boat life, but wilderness living is cool too.
Woof Woof.
Farley here,
Victoria is a magic place in British Columbia. In winter, the beaches are dog friendly. Yup, you heard that right. I can run off leash wherever I want.
You see my friend Piper. She’s the border terrier going crazy in the sand. The sand here is not like the sand in The Bahamas. The smell is a bit funky. I’m told that’s kelp. Now kelp is also slimy, so why would Piper want to roll in it?
Murphy is much more dignified. He understands the proper behaviour is to wade slowly into the water, stand tummy deep and gaze thoughtfully at the horizon. Piper, well, I don’t think she does anything thoughtfully, but I love her anyway. She part of my FFL pack.
Wool Wool
Farley here,
Have you have tasted fresh water, right out of a creek? It’s awesome. I’m on my hike, making sure my human get some exercise, and look what I find. The water is cold and rushing across my feet. I think the supply is endless. Sometimes life is confusing. I have no idea where the water is coming from. At home, Kristina fills my bowl, so who is filling this creek? I think about this great life question and realize I don’t care. Just bring it on.
Everyone should drink from a creek every day. It’s the secret to life happiness 🙂
Woof Woof
Kristina Stanley 