Almost two feet of snow is not good news for a little dog.
My dog must be thinking the same things as Cassandra's dog.
6:28 a.m.: Few things in life rival the pathos of a miniature Weiner dog, ass deep in snow. I can see what he is thinking. He is thinking, "If you think I'm going to poop out here, you are out of your freaking mind. Put me back inside so I can poop under your dining room table like a civilized canine."
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