Hope Was Nowhere in Sight

It sounds like people everywhere are saying that this winter is one for the record book. I concur, it has been long and is far from over. This week a Chinook blew through bringing warm temperatures on the coat tail of heavy wind. I'm not sure which I prefer, the calm cold or the windy warm. Each offers its own benefits and challenges.

This afternoon, the dogs and I took advantage of the warm wind and walked the mile round trip to the mailbox. On the way back, Cali, our younger Springer Spaniel, broke rank and bounded to the side of the drive where she eagerly plunged her nose into a crusty snow bank. Feverishly she plowed through, back and forth, following the scent and movement of something that had found temporary refuge. Luna and I watched and waited. It was obvious she was on the track of something that was still there rather than of something that had bedded down earlier in the day but had since moved on. Her movements-- deliberate and jerky. Her determination--steadfast. Her senses--keen and accurate.

After digging, sniffing, pawing, repositioning, then digging again and again, a small brown mouse gave up the game and made a run for it. It emerged from the now decimated snow bank, hopped up onto the firm crust above its ransacked nest and ran like hell for what it hoped was nearby.

Unfortunately, hope was nowhere in sight. Only a 50-pound Springer, springing joyfully after the hard earned prize. She pounced then scooped the helpless vermin into her mouth. Luna dove in with hope of her own, but Cali turned her back, and within seconds the mouse was gone.

Thankfully it's a warm day because Cali will spend the rest of the afternoon outside...digesting....

And so it is.