Russian (dog) Roulette

Just a quick thought from my morning today... Aiko wakes me up around 6am ready to go outside. No big deal, but a little earlier than I'd like. Now, for most of her life, Aiko has lived in fairly populated areas (like Boston) where I had to go with her, or in recent years, at least put her out on a her dog run. Since we now live in the great north woods of VT and can't even see our neighbors (much less a road with any significant traffic), she can now go outside freely. This of course gives her access to neighborhood barbeques and (even better) the trash which results from such events, but in the winter, it's not much of an issue.

So out she goes at 6am on arguably the coldest day of the year. I expect her to return in minutes, given that the temperature is in single digits, but she's gone for quite awhile. Finally she returns, which brings up the reference to russian roulette. We've now lived in this house for three plus years, and without fail, Aiko has come back to whichever door you let her out of (there are several ways outside). For some reason, though, for the past few months, she has instituted a new game of 'guess which door' she'll return to. I'm thinking about pitching it as a game show to NBC.

So, here I am in my PJs, listening to Aiko's barks to come in, wandering from door to door trying to guess which door she's been barking at. And, on the other end, there is my dog, outside in the cold, getting frustrated at my poor guessing and changing to a different door. In my mind, it probably looked like one of those old Scooby Doo cartoons where Scooby and Shaggy start opening closet doors while trying to outrun the monster. We finally hooked up after a half-dozen attempts and Aiko comes in from the cold. We gave each other that look that only a couple who has put up with each other for far too long can give, and headed back to bed for a few final zzzzs.