Bouviers were made for snow days. At least every one of them I’ve ever lived with enjoyed playing in the snow more than just about anything. Which makes it a shame that we get so few of them in Texas.
After romping around and trying to bury his head in the snow, Dawg came back inside to roast in front of the fireplace. We opened presents (yes, Dawg gets to unwrap his own present), and he got his traditional rawhide cane. He loves those things. Even more this year, since I’ve been giving him those veggie bones for a few months now.
He even showed some restraint with it for the first time ever. He only ate two-thirds of the bone before going to sleep for the night. Laying in front of the fireplace like that, hanging onto his bone, I like to think he dreamed of a doggy Santa Claus. What do you think?