Speaker 1: Welcome to bedtime Stories for everyone, in which nothing much happens,
Speaker 1: you feel good, and then you fall asleep. I'm Catherine Nikolay.
Speaker 1: I create everything you hear on Nothing much Happens. Audio
Speaker 1: Engineering is by Bob Witttersheim. We give to a different
Speaker 1: charity each week, and this week we're giving to Mondays
Speaker 1: at Racine Cancer Care, providing hands on integrative wellness and
Speaker 1: beauty services to anyone undergoing cancer treatment of any kind.
Speaker 1: Learn more at the link in our show notes. If
Speaker 1: you would like to support what we do, as well
Speaker 1: as get ad free and bonus episodes of our shows,
Speaker 1: we'd love to have you. There is a link in
Speaker 1: our new or you can just search NMH Premium on
Speaker 1: your Apple podcast app. This month's bonus story is called
Speaker 1: Cold Comfort, and it's about a little dog named Minnow
Speaker 1: and her person making the best of a chilly Sunday,
Speaker 1: a real letter sent through the mail, and how play
Speaker 1: can heal. It's available right now to subscribers. Now, let
Speaker 1: me say a little about how this works. Without some
Speaker 1: path to follow, your mind can easily wander, and often
Speaker 1: it's that wandering that keeps you up. It's why you
Speaker 1: can barely keep your eyes open when you're reading a book,
Speaker 1: but when you turn off the light and curl up,
Speaker 1: you're suddenly wide awake again. So the story I have
Speaker 1: for you, it's just a gentle path to follow, and
Speaker 1: by listening to the sound of my voice, we'll keep
Speaker 1: you from wandering, and we'll settle your mind into sleep.
Speaker 1: I'll tell the story twice, and I'll go a little
Speaker 1: slower the second time through. If you wake later in
Speaker 1: the night, don't hesitate to turn the story right back on.
Speaker 1: Listeners tell me that when they do that, they're often
Speaker 1: back to sleep within seconds. Our story tonight is called
Speaker 1: Muddy Pause, and it's a story about a walk outside
Speaker 1: with village pups, Crumb and Birdie, and the inevitable aftermath.
Speaker 1: It's also about a rubber ducky, a field full of
Speaker 1: good spots to stop and sniff, a bed laid out
Speaker 1: in the sunshine, and the feeling of being safe and
Speaker 1: content at home with family. So it's time. Lights out,
Speaker 1: devices down, get as comfortable as you can, arrange pillows
Speaker 1: and blankets until you are completely at ease. You are safe.
Speaker 1: I will be here keeping watch, guarding you with my voice.
Speaker 1: Let's take a deep breath, in through the nose, out
Speaker 1: through your mouth, nice one more time, breathe in and out,
Speaker 1: good muddy paws. It had been worth it, the long
Speaker 1: walk through the neighborhood and out into the field beyond
Speaker 1: the dead end. We hadn't been able to go out
Speaker 1: in so long, there had just been too much ice
Speaker 1: and snow. But this week, after several days of warmer weather,
Speaker 1: nearly all of it was melted. The sun was out
Speaker 1: and the air smelled new. Still needed to bundle up
Speaker 1: us and our coats, and the dogs in their jackets,
Speaker 1: but as soon as we stepped outside, I think we
Speaker 1: all felt the boost of some fresh air and time
Speaker 1: out of doors. As we tramped down the still damp sidewalks,
Speaker 1: trying to avoid the rivulets of melt and the puddles,
Speaker 1: we'd spotted a few robins at the feeder, and squirrels
Speaker 1: visiting their pantries planted among tree roots and shrubs. Our
Speaker 1: little dog, crumb, brown and scraggly and full of energy,
Speaker 1: pulled at his leash. He would have gladly run at
Speaker 1: full speed, and for a bit I jogged with him,
Speaker 1: and I could feel the pure joy of movement radiating
Speaker 1: up through his leash into my hand. Our rescued greyhound,
Speaker 1: Birdie could have beat us all without even trying, but
Speaker 1: he was happy to stroll, and once Crumb and I slowed,
Speaker 1: we all caught up together. Crumb was sniffing at every
Speaker 1: tree and curb, and Bertie blinked contentedly into the sunshine.
Speaker 1: We waved at neighbors as we passed. Lots of folks
Speaker 1: were taking in the fair weather, and plenty of other
Speaker 1: pooches were out in their yard or following their noses
Speaker 1: alone the sidewalk. We came to where the pavement ended
Speaker 1: and paused to look out at the field beyond. Should we?
Speaker 1: I asked, it's got to be pretty muddy out there. Well,
Speaker 1: I hate to break it to you, but they are
Speaker 1: both already a mess, so we may as well let
Speaker 1: them enjoy it. I stooped down and observed that indeed,
Speaker 1: both Crumb and Birdie were muddy and spattered pause and undercarriage,
Speaker 1: and even Crumb's neck and face were wet. I laughed
Speaker 1: and shook my head, wondering why I had expected anything different.
Speaker 1: And we had it off the path and into the
Speaker 1: open field. I could see crumb senses working overtime. His
Speaker 1: brain like a supercomputer running a thousand equations at once,
Speaker 1: was processing so many smells and textures and impulses as
Speaker 1: he darted from one bit of scrub and clump of
Speaker 1: still frozen grass to another. He would sleep like a
Speaker 1: little furry log after this. Birdie, however, like he derived
Speaker 1: at an event he didn't have much interest in, but
Speaker 1: was too polite to decline, took a few steps toward
Speaker 1: a tree and feigned a sniff. He came back towards
Speaker 1: us and just stood patiently, resigned to waiting it out
Speaker 1: while his brother had his fun. After another ten minutes
Speaker 1: or so of the blur that was Crumb filling his
Speaker 1: puppy cup with joy, and just as I realized he
Speaker 1: was contemplating rolling in something I called his name, gave
Speaker 1: his leash a little tug, and he ran back to us.
Speaker 1: I could feel the cold now working its way up
Speaker 1: through the earth and into my feet, and we turned
Speaker 1: back to the sidewalk and had it for home. It
Speaker 1: had been worth it, or at least I thought so.
Speaker 1: Would Crumb and Birdie agree after they realized it was
Speaker 1: about to be bathtime. We chuckled as we came up
Speaker 1: the driveway to the back door, where we had a
Speaker 1: stash of old towels. We knew we were about to
Speaker 1: be demoted in the eyes of these two from best parents.
Speaker 1: Ever too well, our names would be mud. Inside the
Speaker 1: back door, we kicked off our boots and wrapped the
Speaker 1: dogs in towels. We awkwardly fumbled them down the hall
Speaker 1: to the bathroom, laying out more towels on the floor.
Speaker 1: As I started to run the bath Bertie cut his
Speaker 1: eyes sidelong at me and gave a long, suffering sigh.
Speaker 1: As the water splashed into the tub, Crumb went into
Speaker 1: a silly spiral of panic. He zoomed around the bathroom,
Speaker 1: leaving muddy paw prints on the towels and then attempting
Speaker 1: to burrow under them. I scooped him up and soothed him,
Speaker 1: telling him he was a good boy and that he'd
Speaker 1: be so handsome after a shampoo in. They went together
Speaker 1: and we both knelt down beside the tub and started scrubbing.
Speaker 1: The warm water. Must have felt pretty good, because after
Speaker 1: a few moments of uncertainty, they both relaxed a bit.
Speaker 1: I took down Crumbs rubber ducky from a shelf and
Speaker 1: he chewed on it as I lathered him up. His
Speaker 1: fur was thick and fuzzy and chocolate brown. It would
Speaker 1: stick out all over when it was dry, making him
Speaker 1: look like his crunchy namesake. I rinsed out the shampoo
Speaker 1: and squeezed the excess water out of his ear. He
Speaker 1: looked so little, my little energetic boy. I leaned in
Speaker 1: and touched my nose to his and got splashed as
Speaker 1: his tail began to beat against the water. Beside us,
Speaker 1: Bertie was patiently giving his dad one paw at a
Speaker 1: time to be cleaned. His fur was short and a
Speaker 1: beautiful gray that was almost blue when he'd first been rescued.
Speaker 1: There were lots of things about living in a house
Speaker 1: with a family that were totally new to him. He'd
Speaker 1: never walked up a set of stairs before, He'd never
Speaker 1: slept on a sofa or had a bath. Now, as
Speaker 1: he let his dad rinse the soap off his long back,
Speaker 1: he seemed so comfortable and trusting. I was so proud
Speaker 1: and happy for him. More towels, more wrapping them up,
Speaker 1: and lots more of us getting splashed as they shook
Speaker 1: the water out of their fur. I brushed Crumb's fur
Speaker 1: out towel, drying and cleaning his ears as he wriggled
Speaker 1: around in my arms. Bertie's fur was so short that
Speaker 1: he dried nearly instantly. Just as we were a about
Speaker 1: to open the bathroom door and release the tornado that
Speaker 1: would be Crumb rushing to rub himself on the rugs,
Speaker 1: we heard a long meow and noticed an orange paw
Speaker 1: poking out from under the door. Marmalade had arrived and
Speaker 1: wanted to know what we were all doing without her.
Speaker 1: I cracked the door as she pulled her paw back
Speaker 1: and looked up at me with affronted eyes. Believe me,
Speaker 1: I said, you wouldn't have wanted to come to this party.
Speaker 1: Crumb pushed past me and started zooming up and down
Speaker 1: the hallway, and Bertie slipped out behind him. On his
Speaker 1: way to his bed in the sunny front room, Crumb
Speaker 1: raced up to Marmalade. She leaned in close to him,
Speaker 1: smelling the unmistakable perfume of wet dog, and shook her
Speaker 1: head with an almost audible wiel. We had a whole
Speaker 1: washload of towels to clean up and a bathroom floor
Speaker 1: that needed mopping, but we were both smiling goofy. It
Speaker 1: had been worth it, Muddy paws, it had been worth it.
Speaker 1: A long walk through the neighborhood and out into the
Speaker 1: field beyond the dead end. We hadn't been able to
Speaker 1: go out in so long, there had just been too
Speaker 1: much ice and snow. But this week, after several days
Speaker 1: of warmer weather, nearly all of it was melted, The
Speaker 1: sun was out and the air smelled new. We'd still
Speaker 1: needed to bundle up us in our coats and the
Speaker 1: dogs in their jackets, but as soon as we stepped outside,
Speaker 1: I think we all felt the boost of some fresh
Speaker 1: air and time out of doors. As we tramped down
Speaker 1: the still damp sidewalks, trying to avoid the rivulets of
Speaker 1: melt and the puddles, we'd spotted a few robins at
Speaker 1: a feeder, and squirrels visiting their pantries planted among tree
Speaker 1: roots and shrubs. Our little dog, crumb, brown and scraggly
Speaker 1: and full of energy, pulled at his leash. He would
Speaker 1: have gladly run at full speed, and for a bit
Speaker 1: I jogged with him and could feel the pure joy
Speaker 1: of movement radiating up through his leash into my hand.
Speaker 1: Our rescued greyhound Birdie could have beat us all without
Speaker 1: even trying, but he was happy to stroll, and once
Speaker 1: Crumb and I slowed, we all caught up together. Crumb
Speaker 1: was sniffing at every tree and curb, and Birdie blinked
Speaker 1: contentedly into the sunshine. We waved at neighbors as we passed.
Speaker 1: Lots of folks were taking in the fair weather, and
Speaker 1: plenty of other pooches were out in their yards were
Speaker 1: following their noses along the sidewalks. We came to where
Speaker 1: the pavement ended and paused to look out at the
Speaker 1: field beyond. Should we, I asked, it's got to be
Speaker 1: pretty muddy out there. Well, I hate to break it
Speaker 1: to you, but they are both already a mess, so
Speaker 1: we may as well let them enjoy it. I stooped
Speaker 1: down and observed that indeed, both Crumb and Birdy were
Speaker 1: muddy and spattered, paws and undercarriage, and even Crumb's neck
Speaker 1: and face were wet. I laughed, then shook my head,
Speaker 1: wondering why I had expected anything different, and we headed
Speaker 1: off the path and into the open field. I could
Speaker 1: see crumbs senses working over time, his brain like a
Speaker 1: supercomputer running a thousand equations at once, was processing so
Speaker 1: many smells and textures and impulses as he darted from
Speaker 1: one bit of scrub and clump of still frozen grass
Speaker 1: to another. He would sleep like a little furry log
Speaker 1: after this. Bertie, however, like he derived at an event
Speaker 1: he didn't have much interest in, but was too polite
Speaker 1: to decline, took a few steps toward a tree and
Speaker 1: feigned a sniff. He came back towards us and just
Speaker 1: stood patiently, resigned to waiting it out while his brother
Speaker 1: had his fun. After another ten minutes or so of
Speaker 1: the blur that was Crumb filling his puppy cup with joy,
Speaker 1: and just as I realized he was contemplating rolling in
Speaker 1: something I called his name, gave his leash a little tug,
Speaker 1: and he ran back to us. I could feel the
Speaker 1: cold now working its way up through the earth and
Speaker 1: into my feet, and we turned back to the sidewalk
Speaker 1: and headed for home. It had been worth it, or
Speaker 1: at least I thought so. Would Crumb and Birdie agree
Speaker 1: after they realized it was about to be bathtime. We
Speaker 1: chuckled as we came up the driveway to the back door,
Speaker 1: where we had a stash of old towels. We knew
Speaker 1: we were about to be demoted in the eyes of
Speaker 1: these two, from best parents ever to well, our names
Speaker 1: would be mud. Inside the back door, we kicked off
Speaker 1: our boots and wrapped the dogs and towels. We awkwardly
Speaker 1: fell mumbled them down the hall to the bathroom, laying
Speaker 1: out more towels on the floor. As I started to
Speaker 1: run the bath Bertie cut his eyes sidelong at me
Speaker 1: and gave a long, suffering sigh. As the water splashed
Speaker 1: into the tub, Crumb went into a silly spiral of panic.
Speaker 1: He zoomed around the bathroom, leaving muddy paw prints on
Speaker 1: the towels and attempting to burrow under them. I scooped
Speaker 1: him up and soothed him, telling him he was a
Speaker 1: good boy and that he be so handsome after a shampoo,
Speaker 1: and they went together and we both knelt down beside
Speaker 1: the tub and started scrubbing. The warm water. Must have
Speaker 1: felt pretty good, because after a few moments of uncertainty,
Speaker 1: they both relaxed a bit. I took down crumbs rubber
Speaker 1: ducky from a shelf and he chewed on it as
Speaker 1: I lathered him up. His fur was thick and fuzzy
Speaker 1: and chocolate brown. It would stick out all over when
Speaker 1: it was dry, making him look like his crunchy namesake.
Speaker 1: I rinsed out the shampoo and squeezed the excess water
Speaker 1: out of his ears. He looked so little, my little
Speaker 1: energetic boy. I leaned in and touched my nose to
Speaker 1: his and got splashed as his tail began to beat
Speaker 1: against the water. Beside us, Bertie was patiently giving his
Speaker 1: dad one paw at a time to be cleaned. His
Speaker 1: fur was short and a beautiful gray that was almost
Speaker 1: blue when he'd first been rescued. There were lots of
Speaker 1: things about living in a house with a family that
Speaker 1: were totally new to him. He'd never walked up a
Speaker 1: set of stairs before. He'd never slept on a sofa
Speaker 1: or had a bath. Now, as he let his dad
Speaker 1: rinse the soap off his long back, he seemed so
Speaker 1: comfortable and trusting. I was so proud and happy for him.
Speaker 1: More towels, more wrapping them up on lots, more of
Speaker 1: us getting splashed as they shook the water out of
Speaker 1: their fur. I brushed crumbs fur out towel, drying and
Speaker 1: clinging his ears as he wriggled around in my arms.
Speaker 1: Bertie's fur was so short that he dried nearly instantly.
Speaker 1: Just as we were about to open the bathroom door
Speaker 1: and release the tornado that would be Crumb rushing to
Speaker 1: rub himself on the rugs, we heard a long meow
Speaker 1: and noticed an orange paw poking out from under the door.
Speaker 1: Marmalade had arrived, and she wanted to know what we
Speaker 1: were all doing without her. I cracked the door as
Speaker 1: she pulled her paw back and looked up at me
Speaker 1: with affronted eyes. Believe me, I said, you wouldn't have
Speaker 1: wanted to come to this party. Crumb pushed past me
Speaker 1: and started zooming up and down the hallway, and Bertie
Speaker 1: slipped out behind him. On his way to his bed
Speaker 1: in the sunny front room, Crumb raced up to Marmalade.
Speaker 1: She leaned in close to him, smelling the unmistakable perfume
Speaker 1: of wet dog, and shook her head with an almost
Speaker 1: audible Yeah. We had a whole wash load of towels
Speaker 1: to clean up and a bathroom floor that needed mopping,
Speaker 1: but we were both smiling. Goofully, it had been worth it.
Speaker 1: Sweet dreams.