May is traditionally my favorite month, but…

…the past couple of years it has done me dirty. I mean, I know the weather and the flora haven’t changed, and I’ve always gone through Spring spells where I shouldn’t get too far from a handkerchief. So I’m assuming that it’s just another one of the joys of aging that last year and this, once the junipers get frisky I’m damned near incapacitated. I really thought last year was a fluke – until the past couple of days. Can hardly breathe. Can hardly see. Seemingly can’t sleep at all, which means I spend my afternoons in a sleep-deprived haze. Which probably isn’t aided by the fact that a measurable fraction of my blood content right now likely has a Claritin logo on it.

Anyway I’ve just been fuzzing through the past couple of days, which grieves me because – putting the wind aside – this really is my very favorite weather of the year. I’m okay early…

We had a really nice walkie and got some laundry going, and except for constant handkerchief use I was fine through that. Tobie, meanwhile…

…was being a very good boy. So much so I almost wanted to ask what he was up to. Sometimes we have great engagement and sometimes we do the other thing, with him wanting to hare off after every errant interesting scent. This morning he was really on, looking up at me for direction every time there was any decision to be made. He did so well I delayed going back inside the cabin and went through his basic commands with him, just so we could swap dopamine hits. He was so into it that when we came inside and he had his water and his treat, instead of going off to lay down he stood in the middle of the cabin and stared at me expectantly as if wanting more. So I smiled and whispered – since this phrase is often spoken in a tone suggestive of punishment – “Go lay down.” And he teleported to his bed, still locking eyes with me, as if wanting to make sure I knew what a Good Boy he was being. So yeah, he extorted another treat out of me.

We’ve been using a 14-foot lead, which given the abundance of bushes often causes a problem that reminds me of the difference between Tobie and Little Bear. My Big Black Monster constantly wrapped his lead around whatever was available, and we played a game called “Go Around” where he tried to guess whether he should go clockwise or counterclockwise to unwrap it. His success rate was never more than random to the point where it really did just become a funny game we played together, with him getting a big kick out of my laughter. When I wanted him untangled I almost always had to do it myself. I mean I loved him like a son, don’t get me wrong, but when they handed out brains that dog thought they said syphilis, and he avoided even the slightest dose.

But Tobie really understands the issue, proactively walking on my side of any approaching bush, and when it happens anyway “Tobie Stop” and “Go Around” means stop and reverse direction to avoid getting tangled up in that bush. I’m not sure if he’s the smartest dog I’ve ever had here, because I was never entirely sure just how smart Ghost was. Ghost had a cat’s sort of smarts – he understood what was needed for safety in the boonies but never really cared whether I was happy with him or not. I’m hoping that when he’s fully mature Tobie will stay close enough that old control-freak Joel can maybe let him off the leash. But so far he’s really only interested in obeying when he knows he has no choice even if the horizon beckons. And there are too many things out here that can kill a dog. I’m really hoping Tobie will be my first old dog, if you get my meaning.

Anyway: I am determined that I will get at least a little done this afternoon toward painting the cabin. I have a plan, and there’s no rush, but this is the third day since I bought the paint and tools and so far I’ve just been drowsing in a chair when I should have been working.

Or maybe a nap first…