A WHITE BALL OF FUR

I grew up in rural southern Ontario, but moved to the city after I married. For many years, I missed the companionship of a dog. We had always had at least one on the farm but more often two or three. My heart ached for a loyal friend that would give joy, happiness and unconditional love.

In 1987, I moved from a fourth floor apartment to a house with a fenced yard. The time and environment was right, so I began searching for the perfect canine friend. My daughter and I found him in a pet shop in November. We came out of the mall carrying a wiggling ball of white fur.

Before long, our loving American Eskimo pup was bouncing around the house and yard, his tail curled over his back in a fluffy white ball. My teenage daughter, Michelle, named him Snowball.

While a puppy Snowball was full of energy and thought nothing of chewing our shoes, the leg of the couch and even the carpet. At times I felt I could take no more. Then, Snowball would sit, tongue lolling and give a huge doggie smile. His brown eyes would sparkle and look directly into mine. My heart would melt and Snowball’s sins would be forgiven once more.

When the first snowfall of the year covered the world in a blanket of white, I realized that I would have to walk Snowball through wind, snow, sleet and frigid weather. The thought was not a pleasant one. Winter was not my favorite time of year.

With a feeling of dread, I slipped on my boots, hat and coat, snapped Snowball’s leash to his collar and ventured out into a cold but beautiful world. The boughs of the trees were laden with piles of snow, giving the impression that they were dressed in exquisite lacey white gowns. Banks of snow had blown against our house and fence. One drift extended from the gate across the entire front property line.

At first, Snowball didn’t know quite what to make of this cold, fluffy white stuff. He would lift his paws and whine, which was his way of vocalizing his protest. Then, he stuck his nose into a snowdrift. Immediately, he pulled his head back, shook it and sneezed.

The cold snow seemed to exhilarate him. Soon he was crouching on his back legs and pouncing into the snow. Each plunge took him deeper into the drift. If it had not been for the bright, red leash and those adorable brown eyes peeking out at me, I would not have known he was there.