His vision had seemed to go precipitously downhill in the months prior to the snowstorm, and I had the impression that R couldn't see anything. Yet, he trusted me to lead him around the forest, and even walk a short distance away from him in this deep snow. I'd chat with him about everything - the weather, what was for dinner, whether I had treats, and whether he was getting too cold. On that day, it was me who got too cold first.
He loved sticking his whole head under the snow while taking loud snorting sniffs. Then, he'd come for air and sneeze from too much snow in his snooter. He didn't only do that in snow but he also did it in summer dirt when he smelled rodents underground. He'd dig for them so intensely that he'd scrape the top of his nose until it bled. He loved hunting for rodents.
What a fun dog he was. I am smiling as I think about his ability to have fun no matter what. He would have loved the snow that's falling now. In my head, I'll be talking to him about the fresh snow when I ride through it tomorrow morning. He's never far away.
Happy Black Dog Sunday.