Friday, January 21, 2011

Frostbite

For the first time ever on a walk I didn't want to poop scoop. 
The radio announcer said the windchill was -38C so I drove DS to school and then came home and put an extra layer on to take Holly for a quick scoot around the block. Whooza. I've been in colder temps but wherever this wind came from was as cold as I've ever experienced.
Even Holly looked miserable and she doesn't seem to mind the cold.
The problem with walking a dog in these temps is not walking the dog. It is trying to pick up the poop.  I'm one of those slightly holier-than-thou people when it comes to certain issues: poop scooping, drink driving, drugs. I have my vices, but those don't make the list. Today as Holly poops on the edge of the main road, no sidewalk, I'm not feeling so pious. I made the mistake of wearing fingerless gloves under my mitts. So I'm ripping these babies off with my teeth (and swearing) and even in the fingerless gloves my fingers are starting to get frostbite within seconds. Then you start to fumble while trying to move faster and then you drop the lot and have to rip out another bag and start again, pausing to hide your poor exposed flesh every few seconds. I couldn't even tie the knot in the bags, I could barely get my gloves back on.
We've all felt that biting chill of a north wind but extreme cold--killer cold--feels like putting your hand in a dull flame.
Anyway, I can maintain my halo but the cost was pain and fingers that are still stiff and puffy.  Ah well. Just thought I'd give you a taste of my life :)

Romance anyone?

1 comment:

  1. Too bad we can't toilet-train dogs, Toni.

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