When did we move to Siberia...

Snow.  LOTS of snow.  And more snow.

Snow and really, really, really cold temperatures.  So cold that it is sometimes hard to keep my paws on the ground.  Yet Myrtle keeps sending my outside to do my business anyway.

The snow here is almost always fluffy and soft. Most of the time, there has not been too much of it at any one time.  And I can just wade through the stuff to tend to my needs.  But lately there's been snow piled up higher than my head.  Even so, Myrtle expects me to figure things out.

I note that she never  has to tend to her business in the snow.  How is that fair??

This is the last snow storm.  Right now, more and more and more snow is falling, even though my puppy momma keeps grumbling about how the forecast said there would be only light snow today.

Can you see me?
There in the door?
Watching over my puppy momma?

For some reason, Myrtle won't let me outside when she works on clearing her walkways.  So, I am left, alone, indoors, worrying about my puppy momma.  Shoveling makes her faint.  When she mowed and fainted, I would lick her face to wake her up.  No one is out there to lick her face.  Myrtle says the snow does a good job of licking her face.  Still, I worry.

I think that snow should only be allowed to fall in manageable proportions.  Don't you?  I also happen to think that when it snows, puppy dogs should be allowed to tend to their business indoors.  Don't you?  Please, have a word with Myrtle about that, will you?  Thanks.  Truly.


This is my life with Myrtle.  Amos Adams signing off!