Waist Deep In Winter

I woke up early the next morning feeling unusually confident and excited to see how much snow had fallen. I peered out the snow caked window. The parking lot below was a sea of snow and all the cars looked like they had drowned in it. I couldn’t wait to go outside. 

There was one major complication to getting outside, however. The front door was snowed shut. Fortunately, I managed to force it open just wide enough to squeeze myself out into the waist deep snow.

Zigzag carelessly leapt out behind me unaware that she’d be rendered completely immobile upon landing. She looked at me helplessly. “I’m stuck!” she said with her expressive eyes. I grabbed her by the collar, pulled her into my tracks, and told her, “Follow me if you want to live.”

Wading waist-deep through the snow proved to be very exhausting. But, I knew I had the fuel to make it to the plowed road a few hundred feet ahead. I had been super carbohydrate loading/overeating since Thanksgiving and I had a whole muffin top worth of energy to tap into during physically demanding situations such as this.

I stopped every few steps to catch my breath and to take in my surroundings.   The dark, quiet, and stillness were wonderfully peaceful. But, there was also a part of me (my legs) that longed to hear the loud booming and banging of a snowplow coming to the rescue.

Zigzag and I finally reached plowed road. We were both panting heavily with our purple tongues hanging out the side of our mouths. Now on level ground, our next objective was to let Zigzag’s nose find the perfect location to have her morning glory.

Two hours later, we were headed back to home base, hopeful that the plow had unearthed our parking lot from the snow. Sadly for us, however, we returned to our development the same way we had left it: untouched. And, I quickly realized why. Some jackass abandoned their Ford Explorer right at the entrance of the parking lot, making it impossible for a plow to pass.

There was no sign of Charlene when Zigzag and I came barging back in from our little snow-capade. She was evidently still warm and cozy in bed with Mr. Howell sitting on a pillow next to her face.