White Skies

The small brown dog tentatively put one paw on the back deck and immediately withdrew it, gingerly licking off the unfamiliar white snow and looking bewildered at the flurries falling from the white skies. It was really no more than a dusting but she had never seen snow before and she seemed to be reluctantly curious - not curious enough to actually leave the warmth of the kitchen without some coaxing - but definitly intrigued.

Once outside, she walked delicately, sniffing at the ground and often looking upward to catch a snowflake on her nose then chuff it off. She left a trail of small footsteps across the white coated grass, looking wary as the frost crunched beneath her feet and avoiding the scrubs where some powder had actually almost accumulated. The black dog had dived head first into the bushes and emerged looking a little salt and peppery, shaking off the snow and looking more than usually happy to discover this rare thrill - she pranced and ran in small mad circles, barking and pawing at the ground, as if she might find treasure beneath the frozen tundra. While the brown dog is on the timid side, the black one is Act First, Think Later and nearly everything is an adventure.

I see similarities between my dogs and people, myself included. Where some of us see snow and imagine downhill skiing, others wonder of the car will start. Where some of see us something new and interesting, others worry if the bridge will have iced over. Where some of us throw caution to the wind and run headlong into a storm, others pack emergency supplies and painstakingly prepare for every contingency.

We all cope as best we can with whatever we're up against. Some run toward and some run away, some bunker in, some embrace. It's a random and eccentric world.