Taking Dogs Out In A Snowstorm
I just asked Matt if this would be considered a “snow storm”, or just a big snow to Swedes. We’re not really sure, but either way, it’s snowing sidewise and gorgeously bright and fluffy white outside.
And inside, too, if you open the door. Hello snowdrift.
Dogs have to go out. No matter what. Even in snow. Here’s what we do:
Squeeze out a generous portion of Neutrogena Norwegian Hand Cream*. You know how a little bit goes a long way? Put the entire generous portion on your face. I call it, A Red Head’s Sensitive Skin Protection Layer.
Then put some on your hands too. They get chapped underneath gloves.
Put on thermals and very thick wool socks.
Add more layers. Basically just put on all your clothes, including those fat pants and the shirt that’s 2 sized too big. Those go on over the other layers. Matt calls them the “Heavyweight Thermal Underwear Layer”.
Put on arctic-grade gloves, or two pairs if you’re like me and only own cold-weather-grade gloves.
Put on enormous jacket. The one that makes you look like a hobo.
I got mine at the local loppis (flea market/thrift store) for just over $10. It’s a men’s jacket but it’s the warmest thing I’ve ever owned and is amazing. When I wear it with a big black beanie, Matt says: “Detroit 1985 called. They want their homeless woman back.”
Dig out that one trapper hat you bought at the crazy hat shop on Telegraph Ave for college party costumes, the one lined with rabbit fur. The one your husband calls your Canadian Cowboy Hat. Because no other hat is actually as warm as that one.
Put sweater on Piper and jacket on Pete. Exclaim how cute they are while you sweep off your snowy balcony. Guess we need to get a little shovel, huh?
Leave house because you’ve now started sweating.
Then take a nice walk, observing Swedes: the vendors selling wreaths in Stora Torget as if the feet of snow aren’t piling up, the Pappas pushing around babies in strollers, the old ladies walking around in parkas and tights. Swedes don’t care AND I LOVE IT.
We happily watched the dogs bound around in the snow enjoying it more than you’d ever think two hounds would.
Pete, our crazy dog who runs away all the time, can now be off-leash and play in parks like an obedient angel because of some kind of witchcraft our doggy daycare trainer has done to him. He’s usually really great at staying with us, but in snow, he can’t see boundaries, such as grass, so he doesn’t know just how far he can go, so there was a brief moment of stomping through the foot-high snow trying to wrangle him back on a leash.
The most important part when you get home and take off every layer, is pouring some coffee, firing up a griddle for some American blueberry pancakes, blasting some Mumford & Sons, watching as the snow
slowly quickly rises up the windows, and snuggle up with your warm, tired puppy.
My apologies for the poor iPhone photos. You get the point though.
*Neutrogena doesn’t know me, and didn’t ask to be associated with me. They won’t mind though, because I’ve used their stuff my whole life and attribute it as the only reason my face hasn’t chapped right off during Colorado winters, and now Swedish winters.