Snow dog

Poor Lizzy. Her walks are not fun anymore, and neither are her strolls in the back yard, because she has to wade through snow that is literally taller than she is.

For the first time since we got her in July, Lizzy's cabin fever manifested itself in destructive behavior: she chewed up my night-time reading book, The Little Stranger, and nearly tore it apart, and, worse, she got my husband's free-lancing check and bit off the corners. He called the bank and they told him they'd have to see the check to know if it was still usable. My husband was not pleased, at all.

My husband titled the picture above: "Will a cabin fever addled dog play with anything?"

And this is how poor Lizzy ends up her play moments: covered in icicles that might weigh twice her own weight. Because her coat isn't impermeable, the ice sticks to it like gum and we (well, mostly my husband when I'm at school) have to dry her off with a towel each and every time she comes in to get the icicles off. Not a fun job for anyone involved.

Lizzy and I are asking the same question: When, oh when, will this endless winter end?