Lost in Winter

That's Jack. He's not the brightest dog that we own, but we love him for who he is. Jack is kind of an easy going dog, taking whatever life throws at him. Unless it's balloons or large balls or the vacuum or the mop or the broom. Or darkness. He's also afraid of the dark. And being outside at night alone, but that probably relates to the dark. Jack is afraid of the basement steps and sudden loud noises. He doesn't like things that just show up in his house and sit there looking at him menacingly like oversized boxes. Jack is afraid of the noise the smoke alarms make and the noise of balloons popping and the noise of toy guns.

Jack is not afraid of the snow, however. This is good, because we have a lot of snow. Luke shovels paths to the corgi kennel and the chicken coop every few days, and within 24 hours the paths are blown closed again. I just trudge thigh-high drifts when I go feed because I'm lazy that way. Jack likes when Luke feeds the outdoor set because he thinks those paths that Luke shovels are just for his entertainment. Despite Jack's fear of pretty much everything in life, that dog sure knows how to have fun. He lives for fun, actually. And whatever Luke is doing is the coolest thing ever in Jack's book.

That's why I caught Jack in one of Luke's shoveled paths today, looking at a snow bank that was taller than he was, contemplating whether or not it would be a good idea to jump onto the snow to try to catch the shoveled snow that Luke kept tossing. He decided against it. I'll admit that I was a bit disappointed. I kind of wanted to see Jack completely disappear into the snow bank. Because he really would have.

Have I mentioned that it's snowing again today? But you probably knew that, because it's snowing everywhere. All the time. We now live in Winter. Not Pennsylvania or the United States, but Winter. I'm trying to be patient while I wait for my address to change to Spring, but I'm beginning to wonder if that'll ever happen. Jack will just be lost in Winter the rest of his life.