Okay, this is ridiculous. I was planning some nice Easter post, spring has sprung, that sort of thing, but I’ve just come in from walking Frankie and I’m freezing. What’s going on? It’s practically April! Enough already! I realize most of you are reading this on the weekend, and since we’re in Florida, it’ll probably have warmed up by then. Heck, you may already be running your air conditioner! But right now, it’s cold. Colder than I even remember it being this winter!
Frankie loves it. Does a little fur really keep dogs so much warmer? I’m bundled like I’m expecting a blizzard, and you don’t see me dancing for joy, do you?
Suffice it to say, Conehead has recovered. Seven seemed to be the magic number. That’s the day he was himself again. I can’t believe I ever felt bad for him. Yesterday, he attacked one of my moving boxes, despite the cone, and I was picking pieces of wet cardboard out of the thing forever. Now he’s running around into walls, bushes and things, misjudging the clearance he needs, and it doesn’t even faze him.
So while Mr. Frisky relishes the cold air, I just want to stay warm under the covers. As I write this, Frankie and Bella are both outside, basking in the sun, which they seem to like to do whenever it’s cold. With no expectations or preconceived notions of what the weather is supposed to be like, they just go with the flow. There’s probably a lesson, a point to made, in there somewhere, but I’m too cold to make it. Author Jodi Picoult wrote in a novel, “There were two ways to be happy: improve your reality, or lower your expectations.” And since we can’t improve the weather … You get the idea. Happy Easter.