Fido & Me - Stormy Weather


“I said at the beginning of the week that we’re in for a long one.”

“You did,” I said, “and if you really wanted to help, you might want to knock some of that snow off the headlights.”

“It’s going to be a long winter,” Fido said. “Humans forget. They get a dry spell and they think it’s never going to snow, ever again.  But dogs like me know.”

“Just out of curiosity, Fido, what clued you in?”

“Chief-the-Cat started sneezing.”

“It could have been that he just caught a bug or something. You know, a little touch of the cat-flu.”

“No way!” Fido protested. “It was the static electricity. I can feel it, too, but I don’t sneeze over it.  You just sit in your chair and toss a log on the fire, but if you’d pay more attention, and that means to me, you’d have seen it coming.”

“Sure enough, Beeg Boy. We really caught one on Tuesday. What else is coming?”

“If you didn’t notice this morning, before we started knocking the snow off the car, the cat was sneezing again.”

“I didn’t notice, Fido. Honestly.”

“And when we went for our walks? Did you see this kind of weird, unsettled weather coming?”

“Hard to tell,” Fido said, “but…”

“Really, Fido. Tell me.”

“OK, so that shorthaired pointer who lives down the road? The good looker? She was complaining that her joints were a bit on the stiff side. That was a tip-off. And the hound who lives near the corner of the Busy Street? Usually she’s a go-getter.”

“I didn’t notice anything different about her. As a matter of fact, I don’t think I noticed her at all.”

“You live in a small world,” Fido sighed.

“So what tipped you off about this particular hound?”

“She seemed unusually quiet,” Fido said. “It wasn’t thoughtfulness, either. I like that dog, but she’s about as smart as a sack of hammers.”

“And yet she still tipped you off.”

“Yes,” Fido said. “It doesn’t take brains to be lethargic. All it takes is a drop in barometric pressure.”

“I have a feeling you are pulling my leg, Fido,” I said.

“Never! I am loyal, faithful and truthful, except on poker nights.”

“So let me get this straight. The cat sneezes a couple of times, your dumb girlfriend is acting lethargic, and out of this, you get a forecast?”

“Hey hey hey hey!”

“Fido, let me clue you in on something: There is always a long winter up here in the mountains. Sometimes it comes early and goes early; sometimes it comes in great big heaps—remember two years ago?—and sometimes it waits until March. But even that does not mean winter is over. We’re always in for a long one here. Don’t get fooled by the short-range stuff.”

“I’m feeling a little lethargic myself, though,” Fido said, “and it’s been like this since last weekend, before the snow came back.”

“But it’s here now, Mr. Beeg, and it doesn’t look like it’s going to let up entirely anytime soon.”

“Just keep your eye on the cat,” Fido said. “When he stops those weird little sneezes, sunny weather will return.”

“Uh-huh,” I said. “We’ll see.”