Before we get to the dog pictures, I want to give a quick shout-out to the Comment of the Month here, which is Josh's bunny made of cheese. That's great.
Anyway, we went outside with the camera for a little while this afternoon, to get the table picture posted earlier. This was an adventure for Her Majesty, chronicled in photos:
1) "Oh, boy! White stuff! Everything looks different!"
2) "There must be bunnies here somewhere..."
3) "Actually, this kind of sucks."
4) "C'mon, dude, open the door. I've had enough."
Total elapsed time: something like five minutes. She likes snow, but isn't crazy about having to forge her way through snow that's deeper than her legs are long...
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We had Norwegian Elkhounds and they loved the snow. My dad and I would go snow camping, living in igloos (which were quite a lot of work to build). The dog wouldn't drink water melted for him, but insisted on just eating snow.
The only time they were happier was when you put a harness on one and let him pull a little sled.
For some reason, these pictures made me think of this poem by Miller Williams:
I threw a snowball across the backyard.
My dog ran after it to bring it back.
It broke as it fell, scattering snow over snow.
She stood confused, seeing and smelling nothing.
She searched in widening circles until I called her.
She looked at me and said as clearly in silence
as if she had spoken,
I know it's here, I'll find it,
went back to the center and started the circles again.
I called her two more times before she came
slowly, stopping once to look back.
That was this morning. I'm sure that she's forgotten.
I've had some trouble putting it out of my mind.