The Frustration of a Brick

We had a few inches of wet snowfall in my area recently and, during the storm, I took my dog out. For some reason, he found a section of brick lying near the house and decided that it would make a fun toy. Yes, he’s weird like that, lol. Anyway, the snow started sticking to the brick as he moved it along the ground with his feet. The thickening snow on the surface made it hard for him to pick up, so he tried to get the snow off by rolling it. Unfortunately, his doggie brain couldn’t process the fact that pushing it, it only added to the amount of snow sticking to the brick. In a very short time, it was encased in a snowy cube about half a foot across and kept growing as he managed to push it down a small hill. Running down to catch up with it, he started pawing at it trying to get the offending snow off and then he resorted to barking at it frustratingly. By this point, I was laughing so hard I could barely stand up, and he looked at me with this expression of, “Mom, it’s not funny!” I was finally able to get him to come inside, but the next day when we went out, he went right back to that brick and continued to try to play with it again. I gotta hand it to him, he’s a determined little guy.

Tookie Versus the Snowbank

Many years ago I had a Tibetan terrier named Tookie. His name means “crazy” in Swedish and he lived up to his name many times. He was a small black and white dog but in his mind he thought he was a Great Dane. This was never more evident than in the winter time when there was a lot of snow on the ground. After snowstorms, I would go out and walk around the yard and make paths for him to walk in when the snow was too deep for him. Slogging through the snow in random directions and circles I’d wonder what the neighbors would think if they were watching me. After I’d go in to thaw out, I’d take Tookie outside so he could “do his business.” Usually he would stay in the pathways but one day something possessed him to climb onto the snowbank. I stood there watching his back legs working away trying to get up onto the snow. He finally made it and he stood there for a moment on top of the snow looking like he was the King of the mountain. His head was held up high and his tail was like a banner moving behind him in the wind. Then he took a step and immediately his front leg sank into the snow and he couldn’t move. The snow was too soft for him to push himself back up on top. He was stuck. Slowly he turned his head back towards me with a look in his eyes that just screamed, “Stop laughing and help me!” Yes, I was laughing at him, I was a bad doggy mommy I’ll admit it. But only for a few seconds. Then I picked him up and put him back onto the path. He wanted to get back in the house pretty quickly after that. He was cold and so was I. He never did leave a path in the snow again though. I guess he learned his lesson the first time.

Longing for Spring


The magic of the first snowfall has given way to weariness,

The snow still has its beauty and charm coating the trees

In marshmallow whiteness.

But I long to see life return to the yard outside my house.

Today I noticed grass appearing as the snow recedes

like waves on a shore.

I feel a sense of hope that Spring is coming.

I just have to be patient.

And ignore the forecast calling for a foot of snow this week.