Hello and welcome to the land of NO. At least that's what Andy, the nine-and-a-half week old Golden Retriever thinks this is.

I am aware that it has been a really long time since I last posted, so long, in fact, that I had to stop and think about what my account login was. I am sitting here at my kitchen bar now, stranded until Bobby comes home to rescue me because my car won't start.

...never mind. At that moment he galloped up on his steed, worked his magic, and off to work I went. It is now several days later, and I can ill-afford time at the computer, but here I am.

It is almost like spring here. Oh, I am sure where all of my faithful readers are, it is already spring, perhaps you have even spied a blade of grass, a bud on a tree, possibly even a daffodil. Here, spring is marked by the condition of the snow- rotten and crusted. We hear the phrase "going to Moab" more often, as those who do not have jobs in tourism vacate the County in search of warm, dry wind and big, red rocks. The hill behind our house is criss-crossed with fat ski tracks, as locals skin to the tops of ridges and ski down, the backcountry season already beginning as the snowpack stabilizes.

This morning, and again this afternoon after work, I took Andy cross-country skiing to run off some of that puppy energy. He loves the snow. Every morning, when we take our little walk before work, he rolls in it, spins it up, digs holes and hides in them, rubs the side of his face in it while running forward at full tilt. My only problem is, he is yet and after all only a puppy. There is a very fine line between not taking a long enough walk, creating excessive energy problems later in the day, and taking too long of one, exhausting him to the point of near illness. And why do an out-and-back ski when there are so many delightful loops to be skied right out my front door? but the loops are all just a bit too long for his stumpy legs and sloppy, bumbling gait.

The crust is treacherous right now, just strong enough to build a bit of confidence and a sense of freedom, not having to stick to the trails, but just weak enough to dump one through into bottomless sugar if one trusts it. I was sliding sideways down a particularly steep hill beside our house this morning, picking up speed, not worried at all, when I broke through and found myself all but buried, head downhill, before I knew what had happened.

This afternoon, I took treats and an old backpack with a drawstring closure, as opposed to a zipper, and when Andy got so exhausted he dropped to the snow every time we stopped, I picked him up and carried him inside the backpack. He absolutely loved it. I, of course, had to adjust to carrying 15 pounds on my back while navigating hillsides, but he had the time of his little life, his nose to the breeze, chilling out in my backpack. But I got a long cross-country ramble in, the likes of which I have not had since before the puppy.

Yes, our life is a bit out of control right now. We go to bed too late, because if we go to bed at midnight, and take Andy outside to potty right before we do, I only have to get up twice during the night to take him out. Potty training is a nightmare when one must be present for every single elimination, escorting the puppy out to the yard for the occasion. We have only had two accidents in this house, but we had one at John and Kayla's the morning after we got him, two at my parents house, and two at the office. I am beginning to wonder if I will ever be able to take my eyes off him and trust him not to hunch up every time I do. Oh, there is hope. He usually potties on command now, which eliminates long waits in the cold while he investigates everything but the perfect spot to pee, and he does go to the door first when he needs to go, but if we are not right there to open it for him, he will just as willingly take it elsewhere. And you know how they say once a dog has had an accident somewhere, that spot will always be where he goes? If only. We have caught him beginning to squat in every room of the house.

And we have not been home to actually puppy-proof the house since we got him, since it is just easier to keep an exhausted eye on him and throw his rope toy to distract him from chewing on cords, shoes, etc when we are hanging out by the fire in the evenings. I honestly think, from my experience with babysitting friend's children, that it is almost easier to keep an eye on a toddler than a puppy. A toddler makes enormous messes, eats innanimate objects, and makes a lot of noise, just like a puppy, but they wear diapers. But there is hope. He only requires a few repititions until the lightbulb goes on. He learned to sit almost immediately, and he will stay as long as one does not take their eyes off him, and he obeys commands on walks, such as "this side", our equivalent of the militaristic "heel" command. Although just because he learns new commands easily does not mean he will remember them when needed, or even hear you give them when a million new, exciting smells are floating past his little black nose. And he has yet to reach the doggy equivalent of a teenager. He still adores his human mommy and is crushed by her displeasure.

On fronts not dog-related (although it seems those are rare these days, between dog at work, dog in the car, dog on walks, dog potty training) March is slow. we had our two biggest days so far this month today and yesterday, and while they were fairly big, we had two solid weeks of days like that last March. And I have not been snowboarding at all for about three weeks.

The picture at the top of this post is a favorite. It pretty much sums it all up, to me... the whole puppy experience. The "do all the right things" manuel, the dog with his paws on the coffee table, just waiting for the chance to chew the cover off the book, even though he knows the coffee table is off-limits, but he is just too goofy to be able to reprimand without laughing, which totally voids the training that should be taking place. Last night, he came prancing into the living room, carrying a forbidden size nine mud boot, almost bigger than he is, and before we could tell him to "drop it", we had to first take a picture. After all, he will only be a puppy for so long. And the picture at the bottom of this post is the most recent one. In the two weeks we have had him, he has stretched out, gained five pounds, and grown into his teeth. At the moment, B has him out on his third walk of the day. Which means I should be cleaning, folding laundry, doing all the things that are so difficult when whatever one is doing is being hampered by a ferocious beast.

And if it looks like Andy is being held up in this picture, that's because he is. In the time it took for B to set the timer on the camera and come around to sit on the couch with us, Andy went from an all-teeth, squirmy brat to asleep, just like someone had hit his off-switch.

And now, I must get off my behind and go accomplish something, if nothing else, put the load of laundry in the dryer that has already been washed twice because it got forgotten the first time.