Never celebrate the end of winter in February.
Two weeks ago I was bemoaning the fact that winter had disappeared just as I was conquering my fear of going outside in the cold. I was confident, after a long, beautiful, summer that I would no longer be bothered by winter.
Then winter came back with a fury. The temperature hovered near zero. We had a snowstorm, and a few days later a blizzard. I was thrust back into cold and freezing wet.
I attempted to go out and do my business. It was an epic fail.
At night, before bedtime, no matter the weather, Pocket needs a short walk, at least past a few driveways, before she doubles (produces a number two). I pout if I don’t get to go with them, even if the weather is bad. On the first day of cold weather, I didn’t make it to the end of the driveway.
I sat down. Daddy lifted the leash, picking me off the ground by my harness. He put me down. I sat again. He had to carry me. (How humiliating, to be carried during a walk.) After two driveways Pocket slowly settled into her double position. (Pocket takes about a hundred tiny steps and spins around a dozen times before getting the perfect squat. It is very annoying.)
Daddy put me down as he bagged the double, then we turned for home. I may only weigh ten pounds, but I dragged him like I was a Husky ten feet from winning the Iditarod. Inside was warmth; inside was dry, inside was Mommy, do or die.
The next morning Daddy put our leashes on and was grabbing a poop bag when I saw my opportunity. I peed on the mat by the screen door. Don’t judge me. People wipe their feet on that. My pee is a lot cleaner than whatever was stuck to the bottom of people’s shoes.
I had completely abandoned the fight; winter had defeated me.
When the blizzard came, I was content to use my pee pads. I had been trained to use them in Florida where it is never cold. If pee pads are good enough for warm sunny Florida, then it is good enough for cold, frozen Massachusetts.
I will return outside soon, when the grass is green, the sky is blue and the sun shining brightly. Until then I will hang out on my pads.
Winter came, saw, and kicked my butt.