Sunny March Days
This weekend felt incredibly warm, and by that I mean it was in the mid-30s and so, so sunny.
The dogs took turns laying in the dining room sunbeam, a constant rotation from the rug in front of the back door to under the table to the living room floor and back again all afternoon.
Then I kicked them into the back yard and couldn't resist following.
There was a lot of running and chasing and some wrestling and the Olive was all NOT FAIR and wanted to go inside.
Then I noticed there was a packed dog trail leading behind the shed and I went to investigate. I was there for two seconds before Mitzi ran in front of me and sat down and very suspiciously told me NOTHING TO SEE HERE MOVE ALONG.
That dark patch on the left side of that photo? Right behind my very guilty-looking puppy? That's a hole dug in the snow, leading underneath the shed.
This explains why she can spend four hours in the back yard.
I couldn't see into it, even after pushing her out of the way. I don't know what she does down there, probably writes bad poetry about how unfair life is.
But I like to imagine she has her own little speakeasy, serving drinks to neighborhood dogs while playing some cool jazz and hosting poker games.
I can't wait to crawl under there this summer.
