The Indignities of Winter

I know, I know, no one cares about the fact that we’re buried under 25 tons of snow in the northern climes. I knew the risks when I moved there! (Actually I can tell Teri is slightly interested, maybe from a dim anthropological sense or maybe from some misplaced Upper Midwest nostalgia, as she lives now in a place where it rarely snows.)

I was awakened before dawn by the sound of my dog heading for the kitchen. Fear clutched my heart. I followed him, and asked without much enthusiasm, “Do you want to go outside? Do you need to go out?” If he does have to go out, this questions is usually followed with much dancing on the dog’s part, because successful human–dog communication always makes him happy. That is, he likes it when I understand what he wants.

I look outside. At 6 am the snow is orange-tinged from the street lights. I can see the fence at the side of a yard and a little of the park, but I can’t see the playground. There is a foot of snow on the porch, god knows how much snow on the stairs leading to the yard, and the snow is definitely coming down sideways. A little dog could get blown away in weather like this.

Taking the easy way out, I calculate that he probably doesn’t have to pee or he would have danced at the back door instead of sitting as if he wanted food, and so I carried that hungry little muppet right back upstairs and deposited him next to the warm and sleeping DP. “Go back to sleep, dog. It’s too early.”

But now I’m awake. Half a cup of coffee in, I can see the sky lighten slightly. The snow looks blue with incipient daylight. I’ve got some editing to do, some writing edits to enter, an essay I haven’t looked at in a week, some posts on transgender identity to moderate, and at least twenty minutes before I have to go out and shovel a pee trail. At least I can pee indoors.

can you still see your dog

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10 responses to “The Indignities of Winter

  1. Ah, sister, what an interesting tale you tell. I can’t imagine it, or rather, I can’t remember it. There hasn’t been a blizzard in the place I now call home since the ice age, and even I wasn’t alive then. But, now that I am the proud owner of a big-boned cat, I will still have to be careful she doesn’t blow away. I am not joking. It’s windy here.

    Love the picture. Why don’t they start reporting on snowfall by breed? “It’s going to be a labrador to setter evening folks. Make sure you have got yourself prepared! In some neighbourhoods, it may even greyhound!”

  2. Here in KC we’ve dodged the snow bullet pretty well this winter (so far). My two dogs have no regard for the snow and venture into it without hesitation. We tend to let them out through the garage in wet weather though so they can shed some of the water/snow on their way into the house. First world problems.

    • Definitely. You probably have larger dogs than I do. Mine is pretty adventurous for a 12-lb. muppet with a walnut-sized brain, but not in the snow.

      We had dodged the snow bullet thus far. But no longer. The view outside my window resembles (what I imagine to be) the Russian steppes.

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