This morning when the alarm went off Daddy got up and looked out the window and let out a big groan. Mr. Winter had left a bunch of deep and cold snow outside. While Pocket and I burrowed further down the covers, and Mommy rolled over and pulled them tighter, Daddy put on his clothes, his coat, his gloves, his hat, his booties, (big Kitty, Pocket and I go out in our everyday wear) and then went outside to dig us out a spot to pee and Vick.
We woke up an hour later and silly Daddy had not come back in the house yet. This was so aggravating. We sent Pocket down to see what the delay was. She ran downstairs, looked out the window, then went back to the bed to tell us he was laying in the snow making snow angels. Mommy was so mad. Just like Daddy to be playing when there was work to do.
Mommy put on a robe and a jacket and we all went down stairs in a grumpy huff. I jumped on the back of the couch and said "I don't know if Daddy is making snow angels because he's not moving his arms or legs." Mommy looked out and shook her head and said that not only was he a below adequate shoveler but he was a lousy snow angel maker.
When we went outside Mommy yelled at him, but he's such a clown, he lay there, still not making his angels properly. Mommy told him to get up, but he's such a clown he didn't move, so we went inside for some hot chocolate with cinnamon and I wrote this poem for all of you who survived the blizzard.
I hope you're inside all safe and warm
I hope you're not wet, that you've been dried
We are going to send Pocket out into the storm
To nuzzle Daddy to see if he's died
Update: Daddy is fine. He passed out in the snow. A burly snow plow driver saw him and performed CPR. Outside of a few beard hairs in his throat he's as good as new.