It was Old Dog`s thirteenth birthday. In the summer, he seemed to grow frailer. We wondered if he would see this birthday, but he has rallied and still enjoys his life, although the walks are shorter and his legs are not as strong as they used to be.
One day last week, a visitor came with her two young daughters, all wrapped up against the cold in coats, boots and woolly hats. Old Dog loves children. He remembers when our grown up boys were young and when he was in his prime. For half an hour, the two little girls played stick with Old Dog, out in the snowy garden. The years dropped away as he ran and played. All his birthdays had come at once that day!
On his Boxing Day birthday, Old Dog followed me around the garden in the snow.........
.......and waited by the icy Indian Bean Tree.
and red roses frozen in the bud.
In this image, I seem to see Jack Frost, a stick man climbing through the twigs.
By the edge of the pond.
Field ice and hoof prints......
where the thaw began..........
and fennel seed heads over frozen snow.