Cricket was waiting all winter for a good snow day. She loves to jump and trip and poop in the snow. She loves getting snowballs up and down her legs and watching me freak out and try to melt her in the sink. She loves watching me brush snow off the car while shovels full of snow fly over her head. She loves to eat snow and catch snow with her face. She even loves to slip and slide on the ice, though I do not.
One winter when we had huge piles of snow, she discovered the joy of climbing to the top of a hard packed snow mountain to poop from there. Even when the snow was deep and hard crackle topped, she climbed like a hiker with steel toed boots to deposit her treasure. She couldn’t care less that I had to follow her up there and dig through the snow with the poopie bag.
Butterfly had only experienced light snows of at most an inch so far, and she barely seemed to notice the change in temperature or texture of the ground. Until the blizzard.
The snow started Friday morning and the girls ran out to collect snow flakes on their tongues and in their hair. By late afternoon I was throwing snowballs for Cricket, because her sticks were already invisible under the snow. By the last pee trip of the day, I had to shovel us out of the house and Butterfly was struggling to move through the thickness while Cricket climbed to the top of the snow to deposit one last poop for the day.
When Butterfly woke me up Saturday morning she’d forgotten all about the weather. She was hopping and thumping her tail and twirling in her usual morning dance to get outside. The front door was tough to open because the snow had gathered on the porch and blocked the door. We pushed our way through and with Butterfly under my right arm and the shovel under my left arm I tried to make a path for us. Cricket ran ahead, but Butterfly and I fell into two feet of snow. I picked myself up, but Butterfly couldn’t move her short legs. She had to be air lifted, or Mommy lifted, out of the snow bank and back behind me while I shoveled us forward.
I did fifteen minute shifts of snow shoveling throughout the day, while the dogs ventured out with Grandma and barked at snow blowers and begged treats from neighbors. It took me until three o’clock in the afternoon to shovel the car out of its igloo and I was exhausted, but Cricket was ready for more adventure. She climbed and jumped and did a face plant into the snow. Butterfly got snow on her nose and compulsively tried to shake it off ten times.
We took a long, well deserved nap to recover from our day.
By Sunday morning, the snow had hardened and Cricket had mountains of rock-like snow to climb. She’s an explorer discovering new territory on every expedition. Butterfly watches her sister with awe, but prefers to search for new and exciting pee spots on the solid, flat ground.
I’m with her.