Salty Dog

I neglected to post this entry while our Hudson Valley winter was in full force…but decided this was my chance since we had yet another dusting of snow last night (yes, on April 16!)

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It snowed again last night, obliterating all the paths I shoveled after Sunday’s storm.  I looked out the window at first light and felt a twinge in my lower back, remembering.

Regardless, Willie needs to go outside to pee, so I open his crate and light the kettle.  He does his usual first-thing stretch, getting low to the floor and elongating his spine with his front legs in full extension.  Then he straightens up, wags his tail, and plants his forelegs on my knee.  “Good morning, boy,” I say, ruffling his ears.

Outside, Willie sniffs around in the fresh powder in search of a clue, a destination before “doing his business”.  Back inside, I slug back a hot cup, lace up my boots, then get Willie harnessed, coated, and leashed up for our morning walk.  We have two regular half-hour loops: left out of the driveway takes us up to Tillson Lake; a right out of the driveway and we’re on our way up to Saddleback Ridge.  I generally let Willie decide which way we’ll go and today he’s pulling right, or east, toward the rising sun.

The snowplow has cleared the center of the blacktop and Willie and I walk on the shoulder, which has been plowed but not scraped clean.  Our feet fall on compacted ice and snow.  I’m wearing hiking boots and ice cleats.  Willie is barefoot.

We don’t get very far.

We’re walking less than a minute when I realize Willie is hobbling on three legs, favoring his right rear leg as if it’s injured.  When I stop to assess what’s wrong, Willie places that leg back on the ground and lifts his right front paw, then trades it for his left, as if his feet are burning.  “What’s wrong, boy?” I ask, scooping him up.  In the split second that Willie lies on his back in my arms, legs askew and bare pink toes exposed, I do something without thinking, on instinct, something that shocks me the moment after I’ve done it:  I reach for his back leg and touch his toes to my tongue: salt.

As I suspected.  The snow-melt road salt the plow spread is burning the skin of Willie’s tender pink feet.  With our walk now cut short, I turn and head for home carrying Willie – and spitting, repeatedly.  In the utility room, after rinsing my mouth, I strip off our coats and my boots and ask Richard to stopper the sink and add an inch of warm water.  As I wash and dry Willie’s feet I am forced to contemplate the inevitable.  Not only do we have a dog that requires winter clothing, we have one that needs boots.

In a flash, I imagine the ribbing – the humiliation – I will have to endure, the disparaging things people will say about our little dog and his “little booties.”

There has to be an alternative.  And when I search the web (“road salt dog paw”) I find one: Vaseline.

Several sites advise using a balm — or Vaseline — on your dog’s paws before and after taking it outside since snow and ice can get stuck between the dog’s paw pads and cause cuts and discomfort.  And road salt – potassium chloride and sodium chloride – can cause chemical burns and irritation.

Richard picks up a new container of Bag Balm and before our next walk I apply a little to each of Willie’s feet.  When we return, I wipe his feet with a warm washcloth to remove any residual ice and salt.  All seems normal – and my dry, cracked fingers feel better already.