Winter settles in

Hamlet against the snow looks like a pastel drawing in cream, black, blue and sable. He would stay out in the snow all day if I let him, protecting our small croft from squirrels and birds.

I've left up a few of the jumps, so he can stay in shape agility-wise over the break. Classes resume in January. Meanwhile, Hamlet has worn a path in the snow around the sleeping vegetable garden. No matter how cold, he is up for a game of chase the ball, return it by jumping over a hurdle and dropping it at my feet.

After a warming game or three of chase the ball and retrieve, dog and human head back in to savor the joys of winter break. Snow muffles the city sounds and promotes hibernation behaviors like wrapping oneself in a comfy blanket to hunker down with a good book, a furry dog and a cup of java at hand.

Winter

Winter
by William Shakespeare (Love's Labour's Lost)

When icicles hang by the wall,
and Dick the shepherd blows his nail,
and Tom bears logs into the hall,
and milk comes frozen home in pail,
When blood is nipped and ways be foul,
then nightly sings the staring owl,
to-whit, to-who, a merry note,
while greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

When all aloud the wind doth blow,
and coughing drowns the parson's saw,
and birds sit brooding in the snow,
and Marian's nose looks red and raw,
when roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
then nightly sings the staring owl,
to-whit, to-who, a merry note,
while greasy Joan doth keel the pot.