I have been struggling not just with words lately but with Duncan as well.
It seems, despite the glorious weather and the plethora of geese which have invaded and polluted our park, cackling and taunting and begging to be chased from their green poop roosts on the ground and back into the air, Duncan and I are both suffering through the winter doldrums. And we have somehow fallen out of sync.
It has been a frustrating couple of weeks for both of us. We sit on the couch sighing and staring at one another, tripping around each other whenever we move, walking aimlessly unaware of each other. And for Duncan there has been downright defiance. He's always been attracted to the green Tootsie Roll droppings of the geese and each year it seems I need to break him of his habit of slurping them up each chance he gets, but this year it's been particularly difficult. Sometimes he stares at me while he inhales them and refuses to come when called. I've resorted to temporarily using his prong collar but even that seems to have no effect. He's fine when he's on it but after a few days of retraining he reverts right back to his rebellious ways, a look on his face that I read as willful impudence. I have rewarded him when he's done as I wish and scolded him when he doesn't. And he doesn't seem to care either way. There have been treats and games and trips to the dog park, afternoons spent chasing the geese away, long cuddles at night, but neither of us seem to have our hearts in it.
And so we've been silent, watching the sun stay longer in the sky and waiting for the changes that this new year is certain to bring. Ken and I are discussing finding a house we can rent, one with a yard for Roo, more centrally located, saving us both long commutes and giving us more time at home with Duncan and the cats. A change of scenery might be just what the doctor ordered.