At last. The first snowfall of the season. I’m not talking about a flurry. I mean a full-fledged snow storm. My car hasn’t moved since last Friday and even though today is a balmy 40-something degrees, the snow is still deeper than my car is high. Too deep for Stuart.
He couldn’t walk in the snow unless it was only a couple of inches deep, or a big truck came by and made tracks for him.
He would not have liked the last few days. Not. One. Bit.
No, right about now he’s found a sunpuddle somewhere over the rainbow and having himself a nice, long snooze. Smart boy.
While his peepstress tries to make chili with whatever’s left in the pantry. Which isn’t much. Not enough tomatoes. No chilies. Barely enough chopped onions. Only a couple of cloves of garlic.
And he’s laughing to himself, “See. I told you you should have gone to the grocery store when they predicted this storm. Along with the gazillion other people with no food in the house.”
Stuart was always right.