Today Charlie experienced snow for the first time. Tim took him out to play about an hour ago. Within minutes I heard bumping against the door …
LURA: Oh, it’s you.
CHARLIE: Let me in, there is cold all over the ground.
LURA: Aren’t you supposed to be from a hardy line of dogs bred to market hunt the icy waters of the Chesapeake Bay?
CHARLIE (settling his fanny too close to the wood stove): I’m what you call a Tropical Chesapeake.
LURA: There are no tropical Chesapeakes.
CHARLIE: Don’t judge me!
TIM (coming through the door): Have you seen the dog?
LURA: He’s by the fire.
TIM (to Charlie): Don’t you want to go out and play?
TIM: Mama’s boy!
CHARLIE: To be fair, she is making Christmas pie. You are not making pie. I’m going to my crate for a nap. Wake me up when the pie is finished.