Find Yours

My owner Mark works at Stowe Mountain Resort where one of their marketing slogans is "Find Yours." I'm no marketing genius, but I believe the idea of the jingle is that whatever turns you on, you can find it at Stowe as long as you're willing to look. If you like quiet wooded glades, go find it at in the out-of-bounds at Stowe. If you like ginormous jumps, check out the big park on Tyro. If you like 5-star hotels and restaurants, check out the new Spruce Peak hotel. Get the point?

I found mine last night. Like I said, I'm not into marketing or sales pitches, so I'm not going to try to convince you that my behavior lately has been stellar or that it was anyone's fault other than my own that Mark hasn't really let me off the leash much lately. I know, I know, I should come when he calls. I just get caught up in the moment, you know? However, last night when he came home at dusk after we received 16 inches of snow in 24 hours, he had decided to give me a chance. We went to the fields at the end of our road (the ones far from the river, so I wouldn't be tempted to run across -- I know... the ice isn't safe!). He put a light and a dog-bell around my neck, strapped on his snowshoes, unhooked my leash, and off we went, bounding across pristine powdery fields under a cloudy yet sparklingly snowy nighttime sky.

And as I charged around at full speed, leaving dog tracks about 6 feet apart in the snow, I found mine. Yep. I love winter, I love snow, and I love romping around in fresh snow on a cold, windless night, with snowflakes floating down and reflecting off my light like stars. I am sure the expression on my face -- if you weren't blinded by the headlamp around my neck -- said it all. Pure bliss. I am a dog who knows what I like, and I found it in the snowfields of Richmond last night.