A dog’s life: The joys of snow, and investigating the high-rise life

by Emmy Elfin

Some blizzard, I said to myself when last Tuesday dawned. But it was still my kind of weather and I couldn’t wait to go out. There must be some polar bear in my DNA, according to my companion. I’m no fan of deep water and I never swim, but a couple of inches of snow are really fun.

Winter is my season. I don’t want to wear a coat since I have two of my own – an undercoat and my outside fluff which I guess insulates me. Jerry, a good friend, is not fond of winter, but he has an extensive wardrobe of coats which are much praised so he gets through the cold in high fashion and with many compliments.

I like to take a few snow baths, which means I roll in the snow numerous times until I get tired or pulled away. Then I shake myself off and do it again in a few minutes. My human says we need to walk and take care of business before we get to the personal spa treatment. If I cared more about my hair, I could sign up for the mobile unit for grooming dogs that circulates in the neighborhood and is very popular, but I like rolling around too much.

In case you haven’t noticed, there has been a shift in demographics in the neighborhood. The canine population is growing because some apartments have changed their “no dog” policies and are now permitting well-behaved pets.

More small dogs, big dogs, sleek dogs and hairy dogs are now neighbors. I have to say that they are quite lively, especially the puppies who have yet to learn boundaries and can be annoying. They run and play without regard to status in the hierarchy which has been long-established. But as difficult as it may be for us old-timers to maintain order, they are happy additions to Forest Hills.

I wanted to learn what my old friend Bailey, a low-slung beagle, thought about her move from a house in Forest Hills to an apartment, so I visited her the other day. She seems perfectly content. Bailey is now used to the elevator that gets her to the street and the cooking smells that make these nostrils quiver.

How about the other resident dogs, I asked? Do you have play dates? Like many apartment dwellers, Bailey keeps to herself. That might also be a function of her considerable age, of roughly 14 years. Because she has some stiffness which make stairs a challenge, the apartment meets her physical needs better than a house.

Could I ever be an apartment dweller? I think it would be too much of a security job to undertake. Right now, I protect my home and the adjoining alley along with any neighborhood I pass through in the car. My hours are relatively stable; I don’t have too much to worry about after dark. Furthermore, I dislike the noise of buses and trucks which keep me off Connecticut Avenue except for weekends and holidays. I intend to stay where I am. It’s a good life.