Winter wonderland

It snowed yesterday, the heavy white clumps we in Syracuse would refer to as "lake-effect snow." This is not Syracuse. I was not pleased.

But I was interested in whether Pooka would have any reaction to the stuff. Turns out: nope. She did her usual routine when we walked out the door (sniff at the bench where the cats sometimes nap, sniff her way across the front yard, again, a cat crossing zone). We walked to Woodland Park, me desperately hoping some other poor, snow-covered saps would be braving the weather to spoil their pups with a sprint and a wrestle. Thankfully, we were in good company, and Pook ran and jousted with Bela, a Thai ridgeback mix about her age and 10 pounds slimmer. Bela's person and I chatted about relocating from the East Coast, bored0m-chewing, Italian restaurants and the merits of feeding ridgebacks cheeseburgers. Talking to other dog owners has been the best thing for me during these early weeks -- learning the tricks to having a full human life and blancing dog care; figuring out it's OK to leave her at home in the crate.

Last night we went out for one last lap around the block before bed. Pooka would not, could not, no way no how take one more step into the snowy grass between the sidewalk and the curb. I'm with her -- one day of the white stuff is plenty.

We encountered a curious sight on our morning walk -- the wake-up ritual of a small army of inflateable Christmas yard decorations. Pooka was about as enthusiastic as if 10 vacuum cleaners had been operating at once as the floppy snowmen, Santas, boxed gifts and other larger-than-life figures rose up from the lawn.