Clean Snow

Clean and snow go together here.

Sorta.

J cleans when it's supposed to snow. In a way.

She's a terrible house cleaner. She knows it. I know it. The kid knows it. Even the cats know it. She doesn't try to deny it. Nobody complains.

After all, she pays the bills, right?

But when it's supposed to snow--sometimes, she gets all crazy and cleans. I could care less, of course. I want my walk, my food, my peanutbutter--all of which are sometimes impacted by both the cleaning and the snow. We must all make concessions, I'm told.

I'm not sure if I believe that, although it's not like I have much choice. I'm the dog, after all. So, I get up when she comes my way with the floor cleaner.

It's my contribution. Oh, and I try not to get peanutbutter on the rug.

Hey, I give when I can.

So the groundhog apparently saw it's shadow, by the way. Too bad I didn't see him. I was hungry.

Cosmo