White Dog and the others lounged in the greyness cast by the storm cloud streaked skies which hid most of our enchanted blue and stole the sun's brightness. It was chilly both because of lower temperatures and also because the grey felt cold to the soul. It was one of those days that invited LOTS of napping and cuddling under blankets and eating ("Stocking up for winter," White Dog corrected).
It was a blah kind of day; a just don't care day. No one was crabby; it was too much effort. But no one wanted to play "Get It!" or be brushed or go for a walk either.
The White Dog Army barely mustered the energy to greet Michael when he came home after school and grocery shopping. Not a single White One rushed out to the kitchen to supervise unpacking. The WDA yawned and stretched into more comfortable sleeping positions.
After he finished, Michael came into the living room rubbing his hands to warm them. "It is not a very nice day today," he said. "I was cold and hated the wind in my face but when it started to snow..."
At the word "snow" the WDA was on its feet and headed out the dog door. When I caught up with them, all six were in the yard, faces upturned, sniffing.
The WDA is not snow-struck as many in our blog community are but there is something magical about a first snow of the season. So here they were...but the snow wasn't.
In Albuquerque we often have snow (and rain storms) that is the equivalent of one person in a packed football stadium throwing up a handful of confetti. And then it is done. Or one part of town gets a dusting, the foothills an accumulation, and at the University, nothing.
As I watched the Army watching and hoping I wanted it to snow for them, even that handful of flakes. It would have made their day. Instead they saw the now early sunset reaching into the yard and slowly came back in one by one. Each sighed and refound a comfy spot and settled to await Steve's home again from work.