Happy Ground-dog Day!

Since we don't have an official Groundhog Day Groundhog in Santa Barbara, I'd like to nominate Owen. Owen is a dirt-colored dog and happiest when dirtiest. This image, in which he gazes, groundhog-like, at his shadow, doesn't do justice to his trenching prowess. He is a furry fifteen-pound rototiller, or perhaps a reincarnated Civil War fanatic.

As might be detected, from the teeny greeny portions of this picture, this particular trench is, theoretically, lawn. Owen's tunnels are currently in the absolute center of the "lawn." From the couch, one can observe the steady plumes of mud and dust being excavated with admirable diligence.

I suppose, considering the gross defacement of lawn and the potential for broken ankles, I should give a timeout to Mr. Owen "Mudslippers" DeGrassi. I'd be lying if I said tripping into one of his pits hasn't pissed me off at times. The floors and furniture are usually a little "gritty," and there are permanent pawprints on anything white.


Thing is, his happiness is contagious. I have rarely seen an animal with such a sense of purpose, one who takes such joy in his task. No matter what the Famous Puxhog says (and he's just a fancy gopher anyway), it's always springtime for Owen. Time to till the soil and make a joyful mound.

Instead of teaching Owen, I'm gonna try learning a little from him. Let's not wait until spring to indulge others in their happiness, even if it messes up the lawn. Dig and let dig. Winter is cold enough.