[Dailydrool] Conley and Getting Through the Storm

[Beverly Szaton]

This morning I awoke at 4. I couldn't tell if it was still snowing or not
because the windows are blasted with snow. I opened the front door--this is
a euphemism for slamming it with my shoulder until I could get it open three
or four inches past the drifts. Yup, still snowing.
I put on my coat and hat and boots and gloves and went out the back, shoving
the door against the snow and shoveled two paths to the nearest upright
targets. I have boys. Lifting legs is necessary. Then I came back and let
everyone out and fixed breakfast for them. They went out, went down the
abruptly ending paths and looked around. Cooper made an attempt to go
further-- had he four legs he could have--but not with only three. No
balance. They peed, they came in, they ate, they wanted out so I let them
all out, all four, and then they wanted in, all three. Wait. What? One two
three....one two...three.....where's Conley?

So I went out. I looked down both paths. No Conley. I went to the end of one
and looked and there he was, in the middle of the yard, up to his upper
chest in snow, plowing ahead with a look of grim determination. Looking for
a snowless spot. But of course...there are no spots that are snowless, not
for miles and miles.
I am out sans outerwear. I am calling encouragement to my Hound, who is
steadily going around the perimeter of the yard. Headed back toward the
house now, he runs into trouble-- the drifts here are much higher than out
in the yard. He stops several times and stares at me, a bleak, flat look of
betrayal. How could I have done this to them, put all this damn white stuff
out here? What was I thinking? That maybe they could fly?
I keep calling. I am thinking I am going to have to get a leash and bring
him the last twenty yards. Now headed into the really heavy drifts he all
but disappears and then, suddenly he breaks through onto the path, falling
face first in a heap as he stumbles out of the drift.

Poor Conley. His butt hurts like crazy where he got the shots yesterday,
making him yelp if I touch him there. He cannot get up onto the bed, he is
too sore. He refuses a biscuit from me. He is very angry. He goes into his
crate and is asleep. If he could have slammed the door behind him, he would
have.
I don't think anyone has pooped. It's going to be a fascinating day....

MomPerson to Nigel, Llewis, and Cooper, and to Conley about whom I am
feeling very guilty indeed.
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