News reports are no less disturbing. The numbers of people affected or killed by the corona virus continues to rise. In New York City, unclaimed bodies have had to be buried in a mass grave. A bright spot suggests that the curve may be flattening.
The reports can be overwhelming and no one needs to hear my amateur recounting. This blog is to describe the minutiae of a retired woman and perhaps bring a little levity to readers.
In Alberta, hunting for deer, moose and antler sheds is a ‘thing.’ You get on your quad or you walk and look for antlers that have recently been dropped. There is even a market for them, though I doubt anyone has become an antler tycoon. Yesterday Gary was out for an early ‘hunt.’ He came home, quite chuffed, with some ‘nice’ white tail and mule deer horns.
Our Jack Russell loves chewing an antler and the one she had last year has been gnawed to a nub. If you don’t know, antlers are tough and it takes determination to get one to the point where some of it can be bitten off.
Taz was beyond excited to get a fresh one, until Gary sat too close to her and her antler, catching a paw under it. For a Jack, she’s timid about weird things and suddenly she was terrified of her treat. She ran off and I had to hunt her down. She was quivering on the bed in the spare room.
I admit to anthropomorphism, especially with my dogs. I had to hug her tightly to calm down. All evening she eyed the antler with suspicion and when I tried to introduce it back to her, Gary accused me of adding to her trauma. I only brought it near and might have stroked her with it.
Another confession. The dogs sleep on the bed with me. Taz selects a ‘toy’ to take to bed but last night, her fears suddenly allayed, she chose the antler. I shared my bed with two dogs and an antler.
In some parts of Canada and the rest of the world, the pandemic is creating dire situations. I am lucky that here, if I continue to shelter in place, I can share my bed with the dogs and the antler. Does it get better? 😀