I have been wishing for snow for three months. THREE MONTHS! It's not the desire of a crazy person who loves to don ski pants, fair isle sweaters and moon boots. (In actuality, I despise winter.) It was the desire of a zealous dog owner who couldn't wait to see her Arctic dog in Arctic-like conditions. I couldn't wait to see Denali romp in the snow, dance among the snowflakes, to delight in the chilly temperatures.
If only I had hoped for more than a dusting of the snow.
Nonetheless, when I saw the patchy white carpet on the lawn, I was excited. I made myself a mug of hot chocolate, grabbed a folding chair and book and set up an area for myself on the front porch. I returned inside for just a moment to get Denali and readied myself to watch Denali romp around.
Instead, I watched Denali try to drink my hot chocolate and leap in the air when I brought the mug to my lips.
Once the drink was returned inside, Denali was able to focus on the snow ... and try to eat it. I could hear his teeth chomping together as he barreled down the walkway. He leaped in the air and assumed his "Let's play" stance. He ran across the yard and back again. He ate more snow. He plopped himself down when he realized I don't play like he does. He ate more snow.
And he was sorely disappointed when we went inside (because I don't have a double fur coat to keep me warm). I have a feeling, though, he won't be disappointed for too long.