The Icedog Cometh

Andy, Comet, and I discovered, on one of our favorite walks, that the high rock walls of the old quarry produce the most fantastical ice sculptures, mostly in the Late Icicle style.

Comet, who will come running to beg for ice cubes if he hears the freezer open, is in Ice Dog Heaven. If the chunk or icicle is thin enough, he’ll crunch through it right when you hand it off. If it’s thick enough to survive the crunch, he’ll carry it around like it’s a stick.

I, who experience occasional tooth sensitivity from ice cream or cold drinks, cannot understand this behavior even a little.

 

He’ll do his best to carry even these huge chunks of ice, and he parades around with them with such pride. It’s fun to watch him get so wrapped up in it. He prances back and forth, showing off his frozen treasure.

 

Sometimes he gets so wrapped up, in fact, that he doesn’t quite realize how wide he is with the ice in his mouth. Either that or he’s deliberately shortening this one to make it easier to carry.

You know the old saying: “If you can’t carry the ice easily, and you can’t shorten it with your teeth, just smack it against a tree.”

 

Andy happily feeds Comet’s ice habit by pulling down huge icicles and sending him off running with them.

 

Fear not: sticks have not been forgotten. Comet often grabs sticks that are frozen to the ground, attached to trees, or far too large for a dog to move, but once in a while, he strikes gold, an enormous stick that he can nonetheless balance and carry for a while. Of course, once he reached that little copse, the stick had to go.

 

The lighting wasn’t too great today, since it was still rather overcast. Still, there was just enough for an action shot, so as Comet sailed over this snowy log, I snapped a few pictures. We asked him to run back and forth a few times so I could take a few attempts at catching him.

There’s nothing better than watching him soar through the woods.







Sign up with your email address to receive an e-mail notification when there is a new entry in the Journal.

You can unsubscribe at any time, and I don't share or do anything with your email address other than send out one notification each time a new entry is posted.
* indicates required
Previous
Previous

Snow Flies When You're Having Fun

Next
Next

One Dog