Southern Snow

Hey Y’all,

I reckon most folks know about the snow down here in the south. It’s a rare treat for us southerners. That’s probably why our forecasters can’t seem to never get it right. Of course, folks that grew up ’round these parts know that if they call for a dustin’ we are goin’ to get a few inches. If they are callin’ for inches, we can break out our t-shirts and maybe shorts cause there ain’t nothin’  goin’ to happen.

Now Darla and I like playin’ in the snow. It makes me feel like a kid gettin’ a special treat, and I suppose the same can be said for her. Most of the northerners round here can’t understand our enthusiasm. Course, they also make fun of how we drive in the stuff. Yet, most of them want to move down here the first chance they get, so I reckon we ain’t that bad. Anyway, I took the truck out with Darla and Wobbly. Now Wobbly is gettin’ along better these days. His legs are grown long enough that he ain’t touchin’ the ground when he does his business. So, we finally got him house broke. I think he was a probably motivated since them doggy diapers is downright embarassin’.

We have a park nearby so we took ourselves right over. It was right pretty with its pond and forest. A handful of natives had managed to get out so there weren’t too many folks. We had us a grand old time. Well, most of us did. Little Wobbly is a might taller, but he ain’t that much taller.

Now that pretty snow weren’t no more than three or four inches deep, but it did get deeper in some spots. I ain’t measured Wobbly lately, but I reckon his legs ain’t that much bigger. Unfortunately, his ears and tongue are still longer than his poor legs, and that poor fella still slobbers a heap. Still, he was excited to figure out what he was in. He’d run, tumble, get up and jump a step and roll again. We let him have his fun until the little fella started shiverin’. We reckoned then it was time to get back towards the house. If I’m being honest we were a might chilled by that point ourselves.

Darla managed to scoop up Wobbly mid-roll and he just snuggled right on into her coat. That’s when we noticed a problem. In fact, it looked so peculiar I had to blink twice to make sure I was seein’ what I was looking at. It seems between the snow gettin’ is his mouth and his own slobbers he managed to make himself a decent sized snowball froze to the inside of his lip. That poor thing had that loose lower lip pokin’ out like he had half a can of tobacco in there. I started laughin’, but Darla wasn’t havin’ any of it. She said it made him look like he had a tumor. I reminded her it weren’t nothin’ but snow.

Course standing out there in the cold we couldn’t do nothin’ for poor Wobbly. In fact, we were probably makin’ it worse. What with the snow comin’ down and the air below freezin’. We piled on in the truck. Poor Wobbly started whimperin’. I reckon now that the fun was over he realized somethin’ was stuck on his lip. He started slobberin’ more and rubbin’ his mouth on Darla. It was becomin’ a significant mess. As soon as the air got hot in the vents I had Darla turn his head toward that warm blowin’ air. That distracted Wobbly so he wasn’t quite so uptight.

Sure enough, in just a few minutes that old ball broke loose. I expected it to fall on the floor, but dogs is dogs, so he ate it. He was so happy he wiggled out of Darla’s hands and plopped to the floorboard. He’s down there by her feet barkin’, if you can call his squeaky voice right now a bark. He tried climbin’ up the seat. Since he’s got them silly legs it was basically his massive head plopped against the side of the passenger seat of my truck throwin’ dog spit all over that side of the cab. Darla managed to get him under control finally, and he buried himself inside her coat.

I guess I’m gonna be cleanin’ up dried puppy slobbers in the spring. Can’t say I’m lookin’ forward to that none. I reckon that’s what happens when you go playin’ with dogs without considerin’ the consequences.

Y’all be good.


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