Slice of Life: Uncertain Footing

(This is for the Slice of Life challenge, hosted by Two Writing Teachers. We write on Tuesdays about the small moments in the larger perspective … or is that the larger perspective in the smaller moments? You write, too.)

If today were school, there would be none (it’s February winter break). I’m just back from walking Dog Number 1, our elderly dog, and the covering of black ice and downpour of steady rain on top of the ice made for a most difficult stroll to the corner of the street and back again. He has a bad leg, and icy conditions are tricky for him to walk in. I just wanted to go slow, too.

So we inched our way down the street, the dog and I, as he tried to find his footing enough to take care of the morning business. I kept encouraging him, go slow go slow go slow. Mostly, he did, at a slower pace than usual, but at the end, as we made our way up our ice-covered driveway and found ourselves at the wooden steps, his paws could not find the usual friction and he started to slip, so I had to lug the old Lab up the three steps.

He looked up at me, grateful, I think.

Now, as I write this to the sound of the rain intensifying outside, I am wondering when Dog Number 2, the puppy, will barrel downstairs from the boys’ bedrooms, and what kind of adventure THAT will be as her energy meets ice, with me hanging on.

Go slow go slow go slow.

Peace (in slippery conditions),

  1. All kinds of uncertain footing seems to be the new normal… I loved the way you brought us into your dog world and the look your lab gave you!

  2. Your post is so evocative of being out with my (now senior) dog, Piper. As we hunker down for an ice storm (perhaps the same one), I shall take your advice: Go slow, indeed.

    Thank you for this lovely post.

  3. As a longtime dog owner, this slippery path of passing one life and welcoming another is one that I have walked several times. The slow pace needed to care in those waning hours are deeply emotional and I’m thinking of you as one dog prepares to cross the “rainbow bridge”. Thankfully, the puppy will remind you of the now. Thank you for sharing this lovely post.

  4. I find it hard enough to walk myself around safely in the ice. (I’m always thinking WALK LIKE A PENGUIN.) I cannot imagine having an older lab at my side.

    The ice storm we had last night turned out to be a nothing burger. (Snow is heading towards us on Thursday.) Hoping it isn’t too bad when it reaches you today.

  5. I feel like that old dog sometimes. The need to go slowly with someone beside me encouraging, waiting to lend a helpful hand.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *