The snow just kept falling, until we had 14 inches of it. I awoke to a text from my boss, telling me work had been cancelled. I rolled over to get back to sleep. Bart sighed and dropped his head on my knees, as if to say, “So, we don’t have to get up yet?”
We finally arose, and he seemed eager to go outside for his “constitutional.” I opened the utility room door to the enclosed back porch. He went to the door that led to the deck, propped open to make it easier for him to get out, and looked back at me as if to say, “But there’s snow!” He came back into the house.
We did this same exercise several times until late afternoon. He went to the deck entrance, then came back to the utility room door, where I stood. “Do you want back in, buddy?” I opened the door for him. He looked at me, then back at the deck, as if he was saying, “Yeah, but I really, really gotta GO!”
“Aw, is Barty afraid of getting his ittle-bitty pawsies cold?” I admit it, I teased him. He paced between the house and deck about three times, went out on the deck, came back in twice and finally eased his way down the steps like a little old lady afraid she would break a hip. He approached a tree in the yard and circled it, puzzled as to how he could pee above the snow.
Soon he was back at the door, wanting in. He went right to sleep on my feet, while I ordered him doggy boots. And THAT is an interesting story…