The Ruby Rose Report: Hello, warmness, my old friend.

This week I was pleased that the weather I had left in Florida finally found me after wandering off mid-fall.

I didn’t realize it had returned until I went outside. It was stuffy in the house, and the polar vortex machine outside came on and blew cold air into the house, but I am a wee dog and didn’t make the connection.

I don’t go outside until later when Mommy starts to make supper. I waited patiently to get suited up with my harness, and as soon as I stepped out and felt the warm sun and didn’t shiver, I realized my old friend had returned and chased away mean Mr. Winter.

It was good to see my old friend, warm air, who, like so many snowbirds, had traveled up 95 to return to the north. When I stepped on the back patio, I stopped to welcome it, then headed to the grass to see if the warmth worked as it did in Florida.

I am happy to report it did. The grass had warmed too, and it felt snuggly on my piggies. I put my face in it and sniffed everything the air brought with it from the south. I shed the shiver I had carried all winter and happily cantered across the rapidly growing, newly green grass.

The warm air and strong sun had awakened what lives below the soil, bringing to life pretty flowers and the glorious smells that hid below the surface until the sun could protect them. I had never taken in so many scents at once and had to lie down before I was overcome. Luckily the warm grass welcomed me.

My human tugged on my leash, reminding me that we should keep moving because we had promised to keep and food to eat. We walked around to the front of the house and then to the street, where the cold tar was now warm. I started walking and even went around the corner, where I stopped as the wind brought more magical scents. Life in the spring is good.

I decided to go home, where I was told that winter would mount a counterattack and that April could often be cruel, but the flowers had a good hold and were fresh and ready for a fight. The cold will only inhabit the land until the flowers grow tired. While the flowers rule I will enjoy my outside time. 

Just don’t make me poo or defecate on it.

That is a sin.