After the Snow

As expected, our snow didn't last. Except on rare occasions, it rarely does here in Denver. Most of it was gone by this morning. However, as Duncan and I took our walk earlier this evening, some remnants still remained. Across the street at the park someone had built an elaborate series of snow forts which Duncan and I were able to crawl through. Despite its sagging foundations and breached walls, there was enough smooth snow left at its base that he was able to do his favorite thing, which is roll around in it and snort it up. By the time he was done he was covered in leaves, thoroughly wet and tiny balls of ice had collected near his ears and in the long hair at his tail. Satisfied with himself he turned his attention back to the fort and claimed it as his own, and in true dog fashion, rather than mark it with a flag, he simply chose a nice solid corner and lifted his leg.

On the way back home we stopped by the snowman that someone had put up at the height of Sunday's storm. When we walked by yesterday, he froze when he caught sight of it with its bulbous eyes made of the two halves of an old, nearly green potato and the thin, orange point of a baby carrot that had been slapped on in place of a nose. It was only with great coaxing that I got him to approach it but once I did, I couldn't tear him away. It was hardly taller than him but he circled it slowly, cautiously sniffing all around it, hesitant to get too close. Every now and then he'd pause and look up at me, cocking his head in that quizzical manner of his, as if to ask what such a small child was doing left unattended out in the cold. Today he was much more confident around the thing, but then it was even smaller than it had been yesterday. The potatoes had fallen off its face and I think a squirrel had probably taken care of the nose. It looked more like snow poop than anything else, which probably accounts for Duncan's nonchalance at attending to the rest of his business, practically on top of it.