As northern New England continues what appears to be a move in the northern rainforest direction, we’ve had several snows that ended with sleet and freezing rain. The result is a hard crust on the snow capable of supporting all of the dogs, but not me. In the past, this hasn’t been an issue because the bulk of the plowed snow from the driveway and parking area forms a natural barrier in the front of the house, keeping the dogs away from the yard and slope beyond.
Until yesterday. We’re currently having warm spell (in addition to the usual snow, sleep, and freezing rain) and that’s melted the pile quite a bit. Still, I didn’t think that Bee would try to cross it because there’s nothing beyond it but more snow and the steep slope. I assume because of her decreased vision, she stays away from large expanses of snow. Unfortunately, I forgot to take into account the effect of a black dog, Gracie, I’m dog-sitting. Bee is extremely intrigued by Gracie because she sees her a potential playmate to fill the void created by Frica’s maternal duties. Gracie, on the other hand, is still trying to come to grips with BeeBee’s strange body language and vocalizations and wants nothing to do with her.
To make a long story short, Grace went over the pile and up the slope and Bee went after her while I stood on the clear driveway in my sneakers and sweats watching the two of them with my mouth hanging open. I called Grace and she immediately came, but BeeBee apparently suddenly realized she was out of her element and froze. That left me no choice but to go get her, and that meant breaking through the ice and sinking into the freezing slushy snow beneath it.
I crawled up the slope and reached for Bee’s collar just as I lost my footing in the ice-encrusted snow. As I pitched forward to my knees, I instinctively flipped her away from me so I wouldn’t fall on her. When I next saw her, she was sliding down the slope on her tummy with all four legs splayed out. By the time I extracted myself, she was down at the bottom and bouncing around in that unique way of hers as if to say, “Wow! That was fun! Let’s do it again.”
No thank-you. Once was enough for me.
