Snout Rubbing

It snowed yesterday.  Sure, it wasn't a lot and it did not result in me getting the opportunity to "dig, dig, dig" in a snow bank or disembowel a snowman, but, nevertheless, it did snow.  And do you know what?  I'm okay with it only snowing a little bit.  Sometimes, I think, a little snow is better than a whole lot of snow.

Allow me to explain.

One of my favorite activities (behind eating, begging for food that other people are eating, scrounging for food, and eating items that may or may not be edible) is rubbing my snout.  I love rubbing my snout.  I do it all the time: after I eat (usually on the side of the couch), when I wake up in the middle of the night (usually in Pa and Ma's bedroom while they are sleeping), when I find something good and smelly in the backyard that needs rolling in, and when the moment just feels right. But rolling in an inch or so of icy snow?  That's by far the best of all! 

People might not realize this, but snout rubbing is a very intricate process.  First, I repeatedly plow my head into the ground while keeping my butt high up in the air.  Next, with my head down, I push forward with my back legs until I stretch so far that my back end comes crashing to the ground with a thud (this is especially satisfying at three o'clock in the morning when I crash into Pa's closet door resulting in an even louder thud).  Then I start howling and barking loudly until I get up, shake, and start the process over again.

So anyway, rolling in an inch or so of icy snow is wonderful.  Think about it:  cool snow in your fur and abrasive ice rubbing against the side of your face. What else could a devilishly handsome pup want?  It's like a spa treatment!

But there is a side effect to snout rubbing.  All of my whiskers are now bent and pointing in odd directions.  This doesn't bother me--I think bent whiskers add a certain ruggedness to my appearance--but Ma and Sister think that it cuts into my handsomeness.  They're always lamenting how my whiskers had just turned the same color (when I was a pup, each whisker was white, brown, and gray in color) and now they're all bent and broken.

What do they know?