Well it seems that winter has arrived. Now, I know I’m a mountain dog but frankly I’m a bit soft. When it snowed on Thursday I just looked at our Mistress and said, ‘You’ve got to be joking! Why would anyone want to go out in that?’ Anyway, she seemed under the mistaken impression I might like to. She even said there was a time when I was a puppy when I would have got excited. Oddly, whilst I don’t remember that time it seems that Wilma is still at that stage and she decided to run around like a crazed loon. Ok, even more like a crazed loon than normal. I braced myself, rushed out to the nearest edge of the grass, peed and rushed back in as fast as was caninely possible. Alfie falls much into the same camp as me, although he claimed the excuse of old age and stiff joints. Shadow, who is definitely old enough to know better, seems to react much as Wilma does. Maybe it’s just a boy thing and we prefer our fireside comforts. Of course, we did have to have the whole ‘When I went to mate in Switzerland at Christmas’ story from Shadow with a great deal of detail about us not knowing what real snow and real cold felt like. She may be perfectly right on that last point, but quite honestly I have no desire to find out, none whatsoever. Whilst Wilma jumps up and down shouting ‘Can I build a snowman yet?’ I will stay at home with my paws up and watch her out of the window.
When Wilma does come inside, she knows how to make herself comfortable. She has always been a dog that likes a pillow in her bed and as she doesn’t have a separate pillow she made one out of the cushion she would otherwise be lying on. I must admit she did look quite cute.
Have a great Saturday
Aristotle
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