Surviving Winter

Ivan and Dasa are not rugged outdoorsy types. They take after me in their belief that hardship is not something to embrace, but rather to avoid, preferably while wearing a warm sweater and snuggled under a blanket. With apologies to dogs and their people who live in really cold places that have been buried under feet of snow, Ivan and Dasa are pretty sure they have experienced enough winter, and should be awarded a medal or at least a scout badge for surviving last week when we had a storm that began with ice, followed by snow, and finished with a shiny glaze of freezing rain. Since part of my mission in life is to make Ivan and Dasa as happy as possible, I got out my shovel, broke through the icy coating, and cleared swatches of yard so they had grassy spots.  Dasa, my little angel, was perfectly fine with her spot by the patio.

                          This is good Mom, thanks.

Ivan had different requirements. I shoveled paths to trees, although they were always the wrong trees. I shoveled a path to the back corner of the yard, his preferred spot.

 

I had to keep enlarging this patch of grass, because it was never quite satisfactory and my poor boy kept venturing out on the hard slippery white stuff. 

 

 He looked aghast as his feet slid, and let me know he could not possibly pee on this. I’m pretty sure Ivan expected me to shovel the entire back yard. Fortunately, that snow melted, but there's more on the way. I’d better keep my shovel handy.