Hey, my peeps. Ella here. Just popping my Fraggle head out from beneath my fur robe to tell you that I am, indeed, alive despite the heaping mounds of snow piling up around me.

It was touch and go there for awhile.

You see, Mom and Dad insisted on admitting me to canine jail shipping me off to the groomer and letting her shave me last week. Why they would do something as ludicrous as this in the dead of winter is beyond me. I hope you’ve currently paused reading my prose to step away from your computer to call Child Protective Services. Unfortunately, my paws are not adept at dialing on an iPhone.

So when the temperature dipped down to 12 earlier this week, I was shivering like a Chihuahua. Mom and Dad even forced me to wear this hideous sweater. I mean, PINK? C’mon. I’m no girly girl.

I followed them around and woofed angrily and made it crystal clear I was not happy with this arrangement. So Mom wrapped me up in a blanket instead, and I gave her some massive side eye in return.

But I digress. Because days later, things were finally looking up.

Yesterday, Mom awoke with a scratchy voice and a congested head and still was complaining about the lack of snow on Snapchat, whatever that is (speaking of which, you should totally follow at LunaticAtLarge because it’s basically just videos of moi all day, every day, and who doesn’t want to watch that?). Just north of us in the heart of Nashville, her friends were getting slammed, and our yard was bone dry. Observe: 11am.

Then, out of nowhere, softball-sized flakes began to pour out of the sky, and I was itching to get out and play in it all. This is what it looked like come 12:30pm. Our yard never looked better if you ask me.

But Mom limited my time to five minutes per go because my tight haircut means I traded my ewok status for that of Jar Jar Binks (i.e. I’M PRACTICALLY NAKED).

Mom is the worst. I kind of hate her right now.

I stared out the window longingly at the cotton forming pillow-y mounds on my turf, and every so often she’d oblige me by opening the door and allowing a quick loop around the perimeter.

And I definitely made use of my precious minutes outside every time she let me loose. I mean, not to ruffle my own feathers—er, hypoallergenic coat that supermodels only dream of possessing—but I’m a bit of a speed demon, a former track star in my younger days.

OK, so maybe uneven terrain isn’t exactly my forte.

But when Dad finally came home from work early, it was on. We raced around the yard and threw snowballs at each other and got sopping wet and it basically was THE BEST DAY EVER.

I mean, I have a lot of best days ever but this was the best best day yet.

Who wants to come over today and play in my snow field with me? I’ll be here all day, people. You know where to find me.

Pup out,

Ella