No to the Snow

I heard this morning that we could get some nasty weather soon. Of course you know how weather predictions go; it could end up being nothing at all.

Even so, here's what I hope we do NOT get. I found these pictures Sunday evening when I was sorting.

This is Dad, and buried somewhere in that coat is me, with my dog. A chihuahua. Her name was Lassie. Stop laughing. This was the snow Dad had shoveled (by hand...snow blowers were not around then) in our driveway. I'm guessing it was a snow day.


But even worse than what he had to shovel was the drift that showed up of its own accord. Yes, that is the roof line in the top of the picture. As in...right above the drift. Looks like I was pretty excited about the snow. Clearly I didn't have to help with said shoveling.

And Lassie just looks like she wants to get away.


Lassie was the epitome of "man's best friend." I first met her when she was just a few days old and she was the sweetest little dog. My Mom did not permit animals in the house, but Lassie got more than her share of exceptions. Dad trained her to recognize the edges of this bathroom rug as her boundary. Whenever we'd bring her inside, she'd go right to the edge and peer over, but she would not even dare to put one paw on the carpet. Her best trick was howling. I would sing (a sound similar to howling) and Lassie would howl right alongside me. She was literally the best dog ever - even Mom said so. We had her for about a year before she simply disappeared. Dad still says that he had a harder time with losing her than even I did - and I was absolutely devastated. I remember that day when he had to tell me she was gone. He couldn't even offer me a good reason because he just didn't know.
If I were to ever get another dog, I would want one just like Lassie.