Snow Day Surprise

Day 362

When you’re a kid, nothing brings joy to your heart like the announcement of a snow day.  Sledding.  Hot chocolate.  Movies with hot, buttered popcorn.

In a neighborhood filled with kids, a snow day also means a houseful of friends.  It’s not yet 8:30 am when the first knock on the door announces the arrival of our first friend.  I’m moving slowly and the effort to find mittens and scarves seems like a job better suited for later in the morning so I send the kids to the basement to play. 

There’s squealing and laughing and general mayhem.  It’s pure joy of a found day nestled in the middle of homework and piano lessons.

I. dashes up the stairs to find something but stops short in the front hall.  “Mom!” he yells “There’s a dog on our porch!” 

I don’t doubt him but walk to the door to check. 

A large black and brown dog stands by the door, his nose pressed against the window sidelights.  His friendly eyes beg to be let in to play. 

“Should I let him in?” 

“Why not?” I answer.  Once the volume hits a certain decimal range the ear ringing becomes a non-issue. 

The dog bounds into the house.  Our two dogs (Did I mention we have two golden retrievers?) bark in welcome.  About time we had a play date of our own, they think and wag themselves silly. 

Our focus shifts from finding mittens to finding the dog’s owner.  The kids feel for a collar.  They find one but it contains no contact information. 

“Go play,” I say.  “Let me think for a minute.”  The gaggle of kids and dogs romp around the house. 

I have an idea who of the dog’s owner.  I call out to the kids to bundle up because we’re going on a dog hunt.

The kids forge a trail in the snow down Jolain.  The dog whom they’ve named Snickers hops alongside them.  We knock.  Once.  Twice.  Three times. 

“No one’s home,” I say. 

“So we get to keep him!” the kids cheer. 

“For a little while longer,” I laugh and our parade marches back in our trodden down path towards our house.