Dear Readers,

Greetings from Minnesnota.  Yes, even though we have a perfectly good place in Florida (aka The Sunshine State), for some odd reason we are still in the frozen tundra and the term has never been more apt.

Winter arrived early and furociously this year.  We have had freezing rain, tons of snow, temperatures that hovered around zero with wind chill that would make the North Pole seem balmy.

It wouldn’t be so bad, but keep in mind I have to go outside to go potty.  You try that when the ground is icy and snow packed and you have Momma (who shuffles along at a “glacial” pace like Tim Conway) in tow.   And to make matters worse, we only have about six hours of daylight now, so we’re often going out when it’s pitch dark.  In fact, it’s so dicey that Momma has taken to bringing her cell phone along so if she falls and gets knocked out, she can call somebody.  I know, right?

Anyway, this brings me to my point.  My paws get cold.  Like frozen cold.  Momma was hoping I could make it through the season without buying me little booties (you may recall that she is on a budget where I am concerned), but when I started going potty while alternately lifting my legs, she realized she had to do something.

First, she scoured the cupboard where my stuff is kept to make sure there were no previously purchased but forgotten boots.  There she found some five-year old Musher cream designed to provide a barrier from the snow and ice, but it did not help even one little bit.  Then inspawration hit!  She would use the little socks that she got from the vet to keep my feet dry after the time I was bitten at doggie daycare.

The socks had been impossible to keep on then, even with tape, and unfortunately this time was no different.  Especially when she caught some of my fur in the tape and effectively attached my neck to my leg.  Not making this up.  After the furcut allowing me to stand on all fours again, Momma took me outside where the socks promptly fell off.  Here I am already knowing that this was going to be a disaster.

Realizing that she had no choice but to actually buy something for me (plus, she could call it my Christmas gift), Momma next swung into Pet Smart, where they had some cute — yet price sensitive — socks, but only in size large.  In case you haven’t noticed, my paws are the size of a rabbit’s.  The socks are quite the fashion statement, but fell off even faster that the vet socks.  Even when she taped them up.  I wonder if Uber goes to Florida from here.

Next, she found some cute little “Dog” boots online that look just like her very own Uggs (price no object there!).  Luckily Amazon delivered them just as we were clawing our way outside (me bare-pawed again) in the dark looking for a good place to go.

Excited, Momma dragged me back inside where she ripped open the package and quickly began pulling the little booties on me.  She tried to ignore the fact that they seemed tight, hoping that she hadn’t measured wrong.  Well, if nothing else, she thought, she could have my nails trimmed to make them fit better.  Not making this up either.  We already have an appointment with the groomer.

Anyway, by the time I stumbled outside with the new boots, I had already lost one, and most of my potty time was spent looking for the other three.  Momma was ready to cry –they weren’t cheap and she had paid for express delivery!

The next morning it hit her (and I’d like to).  She had forgotten that the boots came packed with cotton so they would keep their shape.  Is it any wonder she couldn’t stuff my little paws into them?   Guess what — when she finally removed the packing, they fit perfectly!  Here I am during the Uggs nightmare.

Now that our stay in Minnesota is almost over, I finally have appropriate pawwear.  And sometimes Momma even remembers to put a jacket on me.  Just in time, too — it’s 3 above as I sign off.

Lina, Not Digging these Minnesota Winters!

WOOFDA!