First Snowman

This was a post I wrote back in the fall, had in draft form, but never finished. 

As I continue to fall behind in everything, it is appropriate that I publish this story about one of our first snows of the season now that our snow (at least we hope) is gone for awhile.
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"Snowman?"
"I don’t know if it we got enough Luca," I said.

The little girl named Sissy and I struggle scooping snow with a garbage-can sized container.

After many tries we have a small pile.

We shape the mound into something resembling a body.

Then place two sticks for arms.

Argh, our frosty friend’s snow head is not going to work—it is not packing well.

I grab an oversized-plastic ball and balance it on top for the head.

After a quick trip into the house, I return with hastily cut colored paper for the eyes, nose, and a mouth.

We tape them to the ball.

“Needs a hat dad,”  Sissy says.

Returning inside I grab a baseball hat and scarf and adorn them on the frozen guy.

“Luca look, snowman!” Sissy shouts. 

Luca impressed for a moment, goes back to sliding and climbing.

Sissy follows him. 

As I admire our “art,” Charlie, the 95 lbs. former coal-town stray that we adopted last year, investigates the snowman.

With stealth and intent, he grabs the snowman’s hat with his chomper jaws, knocks the ball head down, and topples the frozen body.

Furry dog trots away shaking the ball cap.

Sissy noticing the small pile where our once proud snowman stood, asks “Dad, what happened?”

“Sissy, properly trained, we humans can become dog's best friend,” I reply. *

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* Note: My comment is based on a saying by Corey Ford.