Last night the weather deteriorated into a white out blizzard and that continued into the morning. It's a pity the dogs can't look out a window and know that when I open the door what they saw through the window will correspond to what they are expected to walk out into. They seem to go through the 5 stages of grief; denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.
Denial occurs immediately when I open the door. They stare for a brief second, back up quickly and attempt to look away from the white horror as though it did not exist.
Anger comes when they are forced to face the incoming gusts, the snow on the deck and my voice demanding they exit the house. They sometimes try to duck sideways at the last second but I've gotten wise to their tactics.
Bargaining involves wagging apologetic tails, concerned wrinkles and anxious dancing feet. Fortunately I am immune to these ploys.
Depression hits when they realize I will not relent and the head goes down, the tail tucks and the back roaches in preparation for the trauma that awaits.
And finally acceptance as they tread carefully into the bastard snow and wind. They sigh and resign themselves to the inevitable cold and 4 minutes later, when I check on them, they are running amok through the drifts with gleeful abandon.
A few hours later though, all that fun will be forgotten and we will cycle through the stages once again. My life and theirs occasionally takes on a bit of a broken record theme ... which is to be expected I suppose.
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