Over the winter, Willow’s TV viewing habits have become, let’s say, excessive — especially considering she is a basset hound.
In her defense, I suppose it can’t be much fun to play outside when the snow is literally over your head, which has been the case for the low-slung trio of Wilkinson bassets most of the winter. For the rest of us, it’s only seemed that way.
Even though I live and work at Reid State Park, its miles of magnificent beaches and secluded wooded trails nothing less than doggie paradise, this winter’s particularly inclement conditions have forced our pack to spend much of its free time indoors.
Evidently, too much.
I’ve known dogs whose interest is occasionally sparked by something on TV, but I’ve never heard of one with an attention span long enough to actually sit down and watch an entire program.
It all started innocuously enough with that insurance commercial, the one with the cute, little, scruffy white dog who is so deeply concerned about the security of his beloved bone that he can’t get a good night’s sleep until he insures it with some major insurance company, as the
poignant refrains of Ray Lamontagne’s “Trouble” play in the background.
Willow was smitten immediately by that pup and remains his biggest fan. Sitting directly in front of the TV and watching with eyes as big as water bowls, she lives every dramatic moment right along with him — his tortured dreams, his loss of faith in the banking system and ultimately, his utter relief at gaining the peace-of-mind only a dog-bone insurance policy can bring.
By now, she knows the commercial so well that in the unlikely event she’s away from the TV when it airs, she comes stampeding into the living room the second she hears those first few notes of “Trouble,” oblivious to anything in her path.
It gets weirder.
Once she discovered White Dog, the downhill spiral into TV addiction happened with alarming speed as her curiosity about, and appetite for, the small silver screen grew with each passing day. From gecko cavemen to credit-card vikings, she couldn’t get enough.
It didn’t take long for her taste to mature from commercials to more intellectually stimulating programs. Currently, she finds cartoons particularly riveting — she’ll watch “Turbo Dogs” in its entirety — although she is also enamored of cooking shows, anything on Animal Planet and, inexplicably, NBC News Chief Foreign Correspondent Richard Engel.
Yes, seriously, Richard Engel.
No offense, Richard, but I have to take this as a signal that my living situation is, at the very least, bordering on dysfunctional. It’s time to get ourselves outside again, even if we still have to do battle with a little inclement, pre-spring weather.
Donning an extra pair of long johns is a small inconvenience compared to the prospect of wrestling my dog for the remote control, which is the path we seem to be headed down if we don’t take action — outdoor action — soon.
Fortunately, Reid State Park is waiting, right outside my door. Chances are it’s not too far from your door either, and if it is too far, there are 47 other Maine state parks and historic sites from Kittery to Aroostook, each one of them perfect places to shed winter’s doldrums, usher in spring and get your outdoor groove back.
So get out there. Release the inner hound. You can always record “Turbo Dogs.”