There was frost on the ground this morning. It was sad. I can no longer delude myself into thinking it’s just a cool spell. It’s officially autumn. And after that will come winter, which is even worse.
The sheep enjoy the frost; I suppose it’s like eating grass popsicles or something.
Sandy and I, however, are in complete agreement on the subject of cold weather. He would have no part of this “going outside” business this morning, he just planted his nose at the edge of the door and refused to move until I opened it.
“It’s all very well and good for you, Ms I-Have-Indoor-Plumbing! This ground is too cold for my poor little paws!”
One year when Sandy was younger we bought him little doggy boots to wear outside in the snow, much to his disgust. The boots didn’t last long, but it was hilarious watching him high-step around shaking his paws until he managed to fling them off.
Watcher charged out as usual this morning, barking at everything and nothing to let the whole world know he’s awake. I don’t know if he noticed the frost or not. If he did, he didn’t consider it as important as his barking.
He’ll be a year old on Tuesday, and I keep telling him that means he’s not a puppy anymore and it’s time to move on from that crazy adolescent phase. Being the crazy adolescent that he is, he pays no attention to me.
I don’t feel like arguing with him today, today I’m just going to huddle up on the couch with a warm shawl and a cup of hot tea, and wonder if global warming would be such a bad thing after all.