Walk the Dog
One of my favorite fall and winter activities is walking my dog, Maxine. For whatever reason, we don't walk much during the warm weather, probably because it stays light so long and we end up doing things in the yard. But during the fall and winter, it gets dark very early, and for whatever reason, I've always been someone who enjoyed taking walks at night.
The main thing is to dress for the elements, usually in layers. If you do that, and you keep moving, the only thing that can really get you down is the occasional marriage of extreme cold and wind. Yes, there are some nights you just can't be outside for anything more than a quick trip around the block. But most nights, if you'll give yourself 20 minutes to acclimate, you can easily spend an hour surveying the neighborhood.
We usually walk to Edgecumbe Park, a few blocks away. Along the way, we might stop and listen to the wind blowing whatever leaves are left on the Oak trees, or look at whatever holiday decorations people have up. A few nights ago, as we neared the park I heard a distinctive "crack!", the sound of a heavy, dull object hitting wood. I wouldn't have recognized that sound in all the years I lived in Kansas, but I have come to know it as the noise a hockey puck makes when it hits the boards of a temporary rink, set up in the park. Whenever I see these makeshift and temporary rinks, I always think of Charles Schulz' "Peanuts" strip. Schulz grew up in St. Paul, which explains why there is so much ice-skating and hockey and snow in the Peanuts universe. And no, that's not why we chose the name Linus...
Maxine and I got closer, and then we stopped and watched the action. It was nearly 10:00 in the evening, and there were four twenty or thirty-something men out, skating aimlessly and taking slapshots at the net (and each other). They were, for lack of a better word, giddy. It was the first week the rink had been open for use, and I got the idea that they had been waiting for this occasion since, oh, whenever the ice melted last year. Their skates and sticks were scuffed and weathered, though the blades of their sticks were freshly taped to add a little extra something to all the shots they will take this season.
I watched, and in them I felt the differences in our pasts. I never grew up with hockey. I never waited for the ice to freeze. Nobody I knew in Kansas played hockey. These guys have been doing this all their life, I suspect. The glories they relive on the ice have no connection to me, and yet I know they must exist. I took a moment to marvel at their skating, and more at their simple joy to be back out on the ice.
I wished I could skate. Maybe someday, maybe sooner than I think.
Maxine and I moved on to the tennis courts. They are fenced in, which make them the ideal place to let a dog off the leash for some running. The nets are still up on the courts, and Maxine and I like to play a game where she gets on one side and I get on the other. Then she barks at me and tries to run around to the other side to catch me. It keeps up both in shape. Well...it keeps us from sliding completely out of shape as quickly as we might otherwise.
Eventually, Maxine gets determined to catch me, which she does with ease. For a few exhilarating moments, I have the rather peculiar sensation of being chased by a 65 pound animal with tremendous closing speed. Every time she catches me, I'm glad she's my buddy. I can only imagine what it must be like to be chased by a very large animal that can catch you and then do something bad to you once it has you.
Once, as Maxine was running at me with full steam, I thought I would fake one way and then go the other. She always buys the fake. Well, something went wrong, most likely I faked one way, then chose to fake the other way, then chose to go in the direction I had initially faked, and Maxine and I collided as she lept in excitement, probably not expecting me to be there (for I had never been there before). We hit very hard, and I believe we both lost our wind. We laid on the snow of the tennis courts for a good three minutes or so, wondering just what had gone wrong. I was laughing in between gasps of air, and Maxine licked my face just to make sure I was alright and that she wasn't in trouble for bringing me down so successfully.
But there were to be no such shenanigans on this night. We played our game, she caught me a few times, and that was that. I considered giving her the slip by leaping over the net, but as I was in my heavy coat, wearing my heavy boots, I had images of me lying on the snow with a broken arm, imploring Maxine to go get help.
And I wondered: Are my net-jumping days through?
Soon, we were back in the warmth of home, glad to have been out in the elements long enough to see what our neck of the woods was up to this mid-December night. It won't be too many winters before Linus is there with us on our walks. My quiet meditations with the elements and Maxine will become something rather different, I suspect.
I look forward to them.
11:23:33 AM 
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