White Dog refused to even put her head through the dog door. It was raining and then sleeting and then turned to heavy wet snow. It was not a day fit for White Dog or man.
The sloppy stuff continued to build up as the variations on forms of water kept coming down. Most of the White Dog Army took this as a sign the day was meant for snacking and napping. And for having an "If Anything Moves on the Street" Barkfest.
MOST of the White Dog Army, that is. Our darkest white one, baby Zsofia...well...it was a different story. SHE insisted on being our weather monitor. She would come in during the heaviest rain to shake/shower us and then stand with her head lifting the dog door flap so she would wait for the cycle change in relative dryness. The icy sleet irritated her feet; she managed that problem by coming in and pawing our legs until the icy dislodged. Then off again.
When the snow was marching down, Zso was her happiest. She stood in the middle of the yard blissfully staring upward before coming in and talking Benson and Pearl into joining her game of "Becoming Snow Sculptures." The three broke into zoomie races long before enough snow settled on their backs to cover them.
By bedtime it was freezing rain and VERY slick on the sidewalks. Steve cancelled walkies and instead took everyone out to the yard for a quick break...for which MOST were grateful