My dog loves the snow. If he sees it outside he starts agitating to be out to cavort in it. He likes Winter better than Summer.
Immune to Cold.
He’s immune to the cold. He’ll calmly stand in a freezing snowy puddle with blocks of ice floating around his ankles. Oblivious.
The snow and ice are now gone and we’re back to damp misty morning walks.
Blood in the Snow.
But this time last week there was blood in the snow. I had no idea what caused it or what happened. Or to what. There weren’t enough tracks. But the dog didn’t seem too bothered about it, maybe someone just emptied some IRNBRU onto the snow.
The moles are busy this time of year too. There are lots of new molehills being made. And my dog loves to dig.
He ignores even the freshest mound of earth if he doesn’t sniff a mole at home. I’m always praying they scuttle off before he starts.
The moles persist though. The next day when we come back there’s fresh earth filling up the hole again from below.
One downside of his digging is that he uses his mouth almost as much as he uses his paws.
De-Roofing the Tunnels.
He sticks his bottom jaw along the tunnel and bites and heaves the roof off. If I left him long enough he would de-roof all the mole’s handiwork with his mouth and leave a long ditch where there was once a tunnel.
All this earth biting gets the inside top and bottom of his mouth thick with compacted mud. It makes him go about open jawed, grinning like he’s insane.
Unlike the mud on his paws which comes off on the walk back. His mouth mud can stick around unseen until after he’s home and then ends up as a big black gob on the carpet. Then we’re both in big trouble if I haven’t found it first.
The snow got deeper as last week progressed. And the dog couldn’t have been happier. Digging and diving in the snow.