Brrrrr!

Sylvester has pretty much made his peace with the weather here in the midwest since he arrived a year or so ago. I don't think he will ever be fond of moisture falling from the sky, but he puts up with it, at least long enough to trot around the block and take care of business.

Miniature Schnauzer-like dogs (he's supposed to be purebred, but he's a bit of a throwback to his terrier roots; he's taller and longer than the 'proper' mini schnauzer who lives around the corner. Also, less barky, so I'm thinking it's a good tradeoff.) have a double coat, and thus tolerate cold-ish temperatures quite well. So, when this winter's first real cold spell hit, we continued getting out on our daily walks.

He did well until the temps dipped below 10, then below zero. As we walked, he started shivering long before we'd completed our circuit, despite his insulating layer. At the same time, his paws started freezing up; he started walking unevenly, favoring first one foot, then another. Poor puppy - I scooped him up, and he rode snugly in my arms the rest of the way home.

Not wanting to torture the poor thing, we've gone out just long enough for him to do the necessaries since then. Once he's finished going, I let him off the leash simply for the joy of watching him run as fast as he can back to the front door, warmth, and safety.

I thought I'd enjoy the reprieve from having to be out in the cold, but it turns out my legs have gotten quite used to walking. They don't care if it's cold out there; they'd like to return to their daily routine please and thank you. Soon, I tell them. Soon enough.

I've actually kind of enjoyed the change in the weather. Snug in my warm house, the white blanket of snow is prettier to look at than the winter grays and browns which are the usual view. I've dug into my cache of lined pants and warm sweaters, and have happily spent a couple of afternoons tucked in under a blanket with a cup of hot tea and a book.

I've been SO grateful for my furnace and the energy that keeps it running. I was without power for five hours as the snow and cold swept in. It was shortly before the temps plummeted, so I was ok for the first couple of hours. But then, as winter's early darkness crept in the windows, and the house continued to cool, I wasn't so OK. I have vivid memories of the three days I spent without power a few years back - watching the house temperature inch down through the 50s into the lower 40s.  The plants and I survived only because the outside temps stayed above freezing during the storm and its aftermath. 

This time, I was obsessively checking the power outage map every thirty minutes, making sure they hadn't cleared the big block of trouble that included my street - because if it was gone, and my lights still weren't on, I knew I'd be in for a long, cold night as they worked their way down to the problems affecting only a few houses. 

As I passed the estimated time to fix by a good hour, my anxiety levels started to rise. I stopped myself, took a deep breath, and scouted out some pet-friendly neighbors who seemed to have power; places where I could retreat just-in-case. I dug my head lamp out of the cabinet, and went into the kitchen to make myself a can of hot soup. (Times like these, I am SO grateful for my gas cooktop...)

As I was finishing the soup, I heard the reassuring sound of the furnace kicking on. I heaved a huge sigh of relief, then checked the outage map one more time, sending up a prayer for the 8,000-odd customers still without power, hoping they had options for places to keep warm.

I know most of the country is in my boat, coping with this cold spell. Stay warm out there, hear???