It's like Mother Nature waits until we're beat down and THEN makes it even colder.
This year, it started at -30 and has stayed there or below almost every day since. Once day -- that brings up all my knowledge of swear words -- it was -47. Even sled dogs were like, "Nope! Not going out in that crap!"
Cut to Monty. He's a dapper young man of 8.5 years who enjoys rawhide bones, peanut butter treats, and long walks on the beach. (Actually, he hates the beach. It has water.) He's well-behaved and lovely, most of the time. However, on day 5 of no walk because it was too dang cold for man nor beast, he was so annoying I almost threw him outside and left him there.
|Why do you torture me thus?|
I decided I had to try something. I have often thought about buying booties for him, but when I had them for his mother she managed to kick them off within a block of the house despite the tie-ons and superglue. Not knowing what else to do, I got him booties (purchased by my SiL when she inherited his mom -- oops, did I not mention that problem?)
They are blue fuzzy booties and they fit him good. Sorry, I almost broke into a line from the song Fancy (0:43 secs) I put them on and he did the usual dance dogs reserve for having odd textures on their feet, but he was raring to go so out we went.
He loved them. He ran and ran and ran. It didn't seem to matter that he had no traction, he ran with such gusto all I could hear was the "fwappa fwappa fwappa" of his paws slapping at the packed snow. Then he saw something he wanted to sniff and put on the brakes.
SWOOSH! He slid right past it, turned, did the fwappa run again and... swoosh! slid right past it.
He'll get the hang of this yet.