A Day in the Life of RTD (RolyTheDog)

Well, you can't say that EcoRover has gone to the dogs--that happened a long time ago. Just ask Mrs ER. But, inspired by a post of the dog/cat mind that Troutbirder did at his site recently, I thought I'd turn this one over to RTD.

Know that Cat Stevens line, "Morning has broken, like the first morning"? For us dogs, every day is like that--a new beginning. My name is Roly-The-Dog. I am a 13-year old Rhodesian Ridgeback mix (mama's baby, father's maybe). I wake with zeal and head to the front door for the first adventure of the day, finding & fetching the newspaper:

Followed by the first food. The rule is firm: no biscuit, no paper:

Then it's time for a nap on the kitchen doorway rug while the human people eat breakfast. Since I went deaf, I don't like to be out of sight:

When it's time for my breakfast, I give "polishing off a meal" a whole new meaning:

Then we get dressed for work. Though retired from social work, I am a trained & certified therapy dog (Delta Society), and still like the uniform:

It's about a one-and-one/half mile walk to work, always with that impatient guy who's all about hurry up, c'mon, let's go, and a lot of hand signals that I mostly ignore:

There are rabbit tracks to follow:

The joy of rolling in fresh snow (I didn't get this name for nuthin,' ya know):

And delicious, sweet red fox tracks to sniff:

All too soon, we're at the impatient guy's workplace:

Time for my leash. I regarded this as an indignity when I first went deaf, but now realize those machine people are pure hell on deaf dogs:

My home for the day:

Man, these stairs get steeper and there's more of 'em every day:

Hope some student people stop by today, it sure gets boring hanging out with the guy who sits at the computer all day shuffling books and papers around:

Finally! Time to head up the hill to Walkerville. I get to say "Hi" to friends like MissyTheDog along the way. Sure glad she doesn't bark in my ear like she used to. Oh wait, she does--I just can't hear her:

Hey, lookie there, we're almost to the house (you can ignore the impatient guy faking this picture with an old one from last summer--no snow):

Is it supper time yet?