What does minus 11 degrees feel like?
Maybe our visiting Boston terrier friend, Li’l Punkin Butt, can explain.
Knowing LPB had to pee, I called her downstairs. As she streaked through the kitchen, I opened the door just far enough for her to squeeze through. She stepped outside, peed on the rug, turned around, and ran back into the house.
Can you blame her?
I’d post a picture but my camera isn’t fast enough to capture black lightning.