Thanks to the Hank

I never thought that I would admit this to anyone, but, okay, here goes . . . I can’t get enough of this winter.

Seriously. I’m not being sarcastic. I really love it.

And, it has nothing to do with my meds, but everything to do with the Henry Aaron State Trail. And Seamus, my black Lab.

I started walking down there in the fall after my dog Harvey – a 13 year old Golden Retriever – died. See, we had known that Harv was going down hill for awhile, so we got a back up dog, the black lab, but, see, I had forgotten what a puppy was like, energywise, since for the past 6 years, Harvey was pretty much like an 80 pound cat.

Seamus and his litter mates were born out in the wilds of Waukesha County on a 20 acre spread with a small lake and horses! Labrador Nirvana. What could I offer him? Oh, a double city lot with something that passed for a lawn and miles of concrete. Nice! My guilt-o-meter went into overdrive.

Walks around the neighborhood were all fine and dandy, but . . . this dog was wired for running and water and better yet, running into water. But where?

Enter the Hank. It met all the requirements. Close. Accessible. Water. Open spaces. Plenty of stuff to roll in and muck to muck in.

Oh, and let it be known that I always pick up after my dog – those Milwaukee Journal Sentinel bags are soo handy! And that he is never allowed to be off his lead. We met a Brittany Spaniel down on the river bank, once, ambling along, ignoring his owner who yelled and whistled in the parking lot. Some people!

Not only is the walk on the Hank great for the dog, it’s great for me. My doctor told me that I had to get more exercise. She recommended a tread mill. A tread mill? On a tread mill, I would never get to see leopard frogs, a north american mink, red-tailed hawks, great blue herons, salmon, brown trout, not to mention wild flowers, which I love, but Seamus only cares about when it comes time for him to pee.