Not a good-puppy morning...

As good as Savannah can be most of the time, there are days when I could just pack up her bed and chew-bones and tell her to hit the puppy-road and see if the grass is indeed greener on the other side of the hills here. And the colder it is outside, the more that bad-puppyness comes out of her. And the wind... this puppy loves the wind. Exact opposite of me, and I'm the one out there walking her.

When I was walking Savannah this morning, she would just not get focused on the task at hand. And what was that task?  Simple--- just pee and poop and let's get back in the house before my mascara freezes my eyelashes.

I don't know what on earth was walking along the road last night, but Savannah's nose hit the ground as soon as we got near the barn and she was playing bloodhound and continually sniffing and searching and pulling as if  both The Holy Grail and Jimmy Hoffa had been dragged all over our property by the light of the moon.  What I should have done was just bring her back into the house and let her settle her puppy self down some, and then go out again and walk in the opposite direction. But I was all bundled up in sweater and coat and scarf and boots and I didn't want to get un-bundled and then have to re-bundle so I just kept walking. And walking. Big mistake, because Savannah just kept on pulling and sniffing. It was right about then that I started to question my sanity about getting a dog. And not just a dog, but a big dog who is now sixty-plus pounds.

And to make matters worse, Savannah's nose found a small pile of poop (probably from one of our cats) and before I could yank that chain to pull her away, she had snatched up a little piece of that frozen poop and she started to chew it. Are you kidding me?!  I get her food that's fresh-baked-with-no-fillers at $40 a bag and she's out there eating what the cats have tried to bury?!?!  (And this is exactly why I have never, never, never let a dog lick my face, by the way.)

Well, so much for a good-puppy morning. After about 45 minutes out in that cold and wind, Savannah finally remembered what we were out there for in the first place and she did what she needed to do. Wonder of puppy wonders.

Then we got to the driveway and there was Gatsby... I had let him out of the garage before I went up the road with Savannah, thinking that I'd be gone just a few minutes and I could let him back into the garage after our walk. Poor Gatsby was so cold that as soon as he saw us near the driveway, he ran at full cat-speed towards the garage door...  and of course Savannah tried to chase him, stretching my arm out another couple of inches in the process.  I was so mad that I yanked her chain back and made her sit on that cold driveway for a good five minutes before I let her get up. The problem with that little punishment was that I don't even think she minded because she spent the time looking at the goats in the pasture across the road.

When we got back into the house, I took Savannah's leash off and didn't say a word to her because I was so angry with her behavior, or lack thereof. She must have known that because she didn't sit down in the kitchen near her treat jars, she just walked into the TV room and found a spot on the carpet to lay down. And that's where she has been since we got back in the house.

Puppies and cold windy mornings are just not a good match.