Humans everywhere are saying they are ready for the end of winter. I don’t get it.
I flattened myself into the side of a steep snowbank on my driveway. I just hung out there feeling good.
A dog can’t do this in summer. Summer is hot. I’ll have to get my hair cut shorter – then I’m just not as cool looking. AND I’ll have to find spots to hide in the shade.
Winter rocks. Maybe I should move to the north pole and live with Santa Claus.