7:00 am: Ozzie goes outside.
7:01 am: I go upstairs to get the twins showered and ready for school.
7:40 am: The kids and I are in the kitchen and waiting for the bus. I ask if anyone let the dog in. Greeted by a chorus of “NOs”.
7:45 am: Kane and Averie go out to search for dog. He doesn’t respond to being called.
7:47 am: Averie sees Ozzie poking his nose out from under the deck. He can’t get out.
7:50 am: Kids leave on bus.
I bundle up in the cornstalk overalls, red hat, Justin’s coat, and my daughter’s snow boots. Greeted by huge snow drifts that are up to my boobs. I shovel with a small garden shovel-thing, since apparently we do not own a snow shovel.
Freezing. Go inside to warm up. Text husband who responds, “Don’t let Ozzy die. Call Animal Rescue or the Fire Department.” Great. Shit.
Go back out. Dig, dig, dig.
Inside to warm up.
8:45 am: Dog rescued. Legs frozen. I carry him in, where he proceeds to lay by the fireplace for the next three hours.
Still bundled up. Go outside to plow driveway in -37 degrees. Back four-wheeler out of garage. Shift into drive, it dies. Won’t start again.
Inside. Warm up.
Outside try again. No luck. Totally frozen in the open air.
Inside. Cry in frustration. Hot bath.
Better now. Megan calls and says she will stop over to help push four-wheeler into garage.
Look out window.
A skidsteer! Sweet! Neighbor who I haven’t EVER talked to in the almost-3 years I have lived here SAVED ME!
Go outside to thank him. He says, “You looked pretty screwed!”
Yes, yes I was screwed. In a big way.
Megan pulls up.
The three of us push the four-wheeler into the garage.
Megan and I go inside to catch up. Ozzie jumps up. He can walk! His limbs aren’t falling off from the cold!
Happy Day. So thankful for good people.
P.S. I put in my request for a transfer to warmer location. Now I just need my husband to sign-off on it.