So, “Snowmageddon” has happened. (seriously? “Snowmageddon”? Is it because Virginians stole “Snowpacolypse” a few years back?) I don’t get why we are calling it Snowmageddon, especially because if it were Snowmageddon, everyone would be dead because we’d be living in a bizarro, poorly thought out sci-fi thriller where hiding in a library is a good idea and the only things to survive outside in minus-omfgareyoukiddingme degree weather are dogs who somehow turned into arctic direwolf demigods in less than a week. (I’m talking about “The Day After Tomorrow.” remember that film? It was weird).

The latest snowfall, because gaspshock and amazement, have caused our yearly snowfall to happen in late January instead of February. Instead of the normal “breeze of snowflakes” and a fuckton of ice, we got 20+ inches of snow. Wow, I’m so scared.

On the one hand, our govenor had called for a State of Emergency this past Thursday (this means, technically, I can’t get in trouble for calling in), but on the other hand, our wonderful bizarre little city decided to not pre-treat the roads and my guess is that they just said “to hell with it” and encouraged everyone to freak the fuck out and buy out all the staples of milk sandwiches instead of buying things that would sustain them if anything were to happen. Kind of sad when your local news stations spend more time going over that stores are completely out of milk and bread than actual problems.

But, the plus side is: we are stuck in our neighborhood and have been for the past three days. We were going to try to venture out yesterday, but that didn’t happen as we watched a truck slide its way down the street as we were trading off scraping the driveway. We also learned that the neighborhood wasn’t plowed because, while I was working on part of the driveway, Jamie busted open the door to yell that we had an emergency, and all the dogs piled out of the backyard. The fence was open. Bug won’t leave the backyard without a leash, so she stayed, Cricket will turn around in circles if you say her name (or anyone’s name), and Firefly tried to sneak past me. I was able to grab her by her collar, which was the perfect opportunity for Ty the foster dog to sneak past me, around the truck, and down the street.

There is no way this dog is 11.

She hauled ass, and I ran after her, leaving Jamie to get the dogs back in the house and deal with whatever happened inside. I don’t run. I can’t run (I’ve got heart problems, lung problems, and I just don’t run). The plus side is that, from where people were sliding through the neighborhood trying to get around, I had some packed snow to run on. Ty was ahead of me, I lumbered past people who were shoveling and giving me a weird look as I’m yelling her name. By the time I made it up the hill to the apartments down the road, Jamie had caught up with me. We made our way down to the dog park, didn’t see her, turned around, and got back up to the apartment buildings where a guy who had been shoveling his driveway had stopped someone who, as luck would have it, is holding Ty.

The woman who caught her was relieved that we were looking for her. She said she was about to put her in her truck and post about her on facebook. Ty was trembling (because it’s cold and she didn’t have her sweater on her). We made our way back to the house after thanking this woman profusely. Jamie swore up and down that Ty would never be allowed out again.

We got back inside and Jamie told me that the dogs had broken into the bedroom (because Bug has taken over for Hobbes in being the dog who can pop open the gate) and had gotten into my backpack. They had “destroyed” my “pharmacy.” (a large freezer bag full of things: neosporin, bandaids, sinus pills, benadryl, etc) and Jamie was adamant that the dogs were going to die.

They successfully ate: cranberry tablets and sugar (because I had a couple sugar packets). They destroyed my tube of neosporin, one bit down on the adrinifil and spit it out (powder was everywhere), and Bug ate the bag of cough drops. Bug is fine, this isn’t the first time she’s eaten cough drops. They happily launched stuff everywhere. Everyone’s fine.

So of course, later on yesterday, Bug attempted to get into my bag of candy.


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