It’s bitterly cold. It’s about seven degrees, and I can’t stand it! I hate this fluffy white stuff that is all over the ground. I heard it was called, “snow”. Whatever it is, it compacts in my paws, freezes my feet, and is so cold it hurts my pads. Mom is threatening to buy me booties! She did buy me a coat, though, and it’s hard to complain about it because it’s keeping me warm:
(I must say, I am a good-looking dog!)
It’s so cold, that it’s hard to check for messages outside. All I’m doing is my business and running back in the house. Then I shake, shake, shake, off the pesky flakes. Since I am not burning off much energy outdoors, I am (kinda) running through the house. Mom is being understanding, though. I really know I am not a winter dog. Yep, definitely no Husky in there. Except, I do like to come in and warm up on my soft bed. That part is OK. If I was a human, I’d be the one sitting in front of the fire at the ski lodge, drinking cocoa while everyone else hit the bunny slopes.
Mom says this is hardly any snow and I haven’t seen anything yet. Oh, brother! I thought I would like the snow, but I don’t!
Woof! Love, Maggie (shiver)