Snowdog

My dog is cold. And that is not a euphemism. My furry dog is shivering...wait that sounds even worse. Okay, my dog, Harvey, is cold:  
[He has tiger stripes...can you call a dog 'tabby'?]

It snowed earlier, and the temperatures were hard-pressed to creep over the 0 degree mark (yes, Celsius... we are civilised in the UK). So I was dragged along on an adventure into the brick and tarmac wilderness by my little sister. The tiger-dog Harvey was then forced upon me, along with a pair of gloves and a hat (conveniently placed on my face by my sister).

So with sister and dog in tow, face stinging, and regrets already looming, I headed towards the park. There were already some people, and a rat-dog at the park - now honestly, why do people buy dogs that stand at little higher than your foot? They are mangy, not cuddly, and the fact that they fit in your bag is not an attraction, it is an invitation for dog sh*t in your bag. Nonetheless, Harvey played nice, and my sister and I had a brief but epic snow fight.

It would have ranked among the great battles of history - had it not been for the fact that it was a little snow fight between a man and a small girl. So hold the victory parades, I'm not coming back triumphant...just embarrassed.

As the darkness began to fall, and the other people at the park left, we began a snowman. Great success was enjoyed by all, particularly Harvey, who seemed to take it upon himself to try and consume more than his body weight in snow. Well done, dog. Well done.

The 'fun' was abruptly ended with a rock-like snowball to the jaw at point blank range, and as I was not feeling like re-enacting scenes from Saving Private Ryan for my sister's pleasure, we returned home. The dog shivered. Uncontrollably. And much to my chagrin, I discovered that the resourcefulness of my little sister is not limited to humans - NO, she had created a garment for the dog. So no more shivers! Just Harvey looking sorry (warm) as a metrosexual accessory.
There is something I hate more than rat-dogs...and that is dogs in clothes, but I must admit that there was something humorous to Harvey lounging around in one of my sister's old pink jumpers...

Nicely done.

So now I've done dogs... tortoises, anyone?

Later!