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 …

Go out there? That’s crazy talk!

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?

CHARLIE: Meh.

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.