Daisy, as I have mentioned before, is an all-weather sort of dog. While she indeed spends most of the summer bringing me her frisbee in an attempt to convince me to come outside and play right this very minute, it’s very urgent, the sun is shining, don’t you see, we’re going to MISS IT, she is also quite willing to sit on the deck in the pouring rain and enjoy the … ambiance, I guess. She also quite enjoys sitting on the deck in the snow or diving off the deck into snow drifts up to her chest in a fit of ecstasy and/or in pursuit of a tennis ball, which we rarely buy for her but keep showing up mysteriously in our back yard. Really, what I’m trying to say is she spends a lot of time smelling like wet dog.
So. I came downstairs the other day and found her like this. I sat on the couch and scratched her behind the ears as she stared sadly out the window at the giant, wet flakes falling in damp clumps into the back yard. I knew exactly how she was feeling and so we shared a nice moment of seasonal ennui, which frankly I think is the REAL problem with winter: it’s long and boring and between putting on boots and scraping off windshields and trying not to let your teeth chatter right out of your head, everything just takes so much EFFORT. I know it’s been a fairly mild winter, all things considered, and we even had a brief thaw last week, and we’ve actually seen the sun a time or two, but still. Enough. I’ve had enough.
And there are still so, so many more weeks left. At this point, the only things I can think of that might help me cope for the next two months are really expensive hot chocolate, socks with unparalleled fuzziness, photos of beach vacations to stare longingly at, and a four year old with whom I can build an igloo. I already have the first three items in my possession. Does anyone know where I can rent a four year old? Preferably one wearing mittens that are a little too big and a hat with a giant pom-pom on the top.