Rusty has never liked cold weather. I keep explaining to him that he is a Siberian and Siberians like the cold. But he is clear that he does not.
Mind you, if we are all outside, he will run and play in the snow. Put a harness on and the boy pulls for all he is worth (does not know his gee paw from his haw paw, but some of us were born to be wheel dogs). But actually just enjoy the cold weather, heck no. In the winter, he prefers so sleep UNDER the blankets curled up against me. Natasha thinks he is a disgrace to the Siberian Race.
The Fuzzy Alarm Clocks start stirring and so I get up and make them all go outside. Pry Rusty from under the covers and drag him outside. The boy would keep his legs crossed for 24 hours to keep from having to actually go outside in the cold, but I insist.
Stumbling in my sleep, I crawl back under the covers. It was brutally cold – the first really winter like day of the season. But I didn’t really pay attention. Big mistake.
Here comes Rusty bounding back in. Race to the top of the covers and start burrowing in underneath. He curls up tight and against my chest. Bare chest.
Only as I peel myself off of the ceiling do I realize that it is sleeting outside. And Rusty’s coat has become encrusted in sleet. And so I had an ice dog – a pupsicle – curl up against me under the covers.
A new and creative alarm clock method.