Dog to mom: brrrr, it's cold

12/17/2009 Dog to mom: brrrr, it's cold By TAMMY MALGESINI East Oregonian When it's cold enough to freeze my liquid laundry detergent, then I say it's way too cold. OK, well, it didn't exactly freeze, but it gelled up to the point it wouldn't come out of the spout when I pushed the button. I opened the cap and tilted the Costco-sized container - peering up inside, the blue conglomerated, would-be cleaning agent wasn't gonna budge from the bright orange jug. By the way, why is it laundry detergent always comes in brightly-colored containers? Is this some sort of subliminal marketing message that my clothes can be as bright as a box of Crayola Crayons? But I digress - the point is, it's been cold. In fact it's been downright frighteningly freezing to our nearly 4-month-old German shepherd. Lucifer approaches each new weather trend with trepidation. The first time it rained he peered from beneath the porch and retreated to the sliding glass door when a drop hit him smack in the eye. When I responded with laughter, he puffed out his little puppy chest and marched into the yard. When Jack Frost nipped the air, you would have thought it was personified as Jack Nicholson in "The Shining." Lucifer bravely stepped to the edge of the back porch, took one step onto the frost-covered grass and bolted back for the door. So, when it snowed over the weekend, I wondered how he responded. As I lay snuggled in bed, I soon found out as I could hear the gleeful sounds of Lucifer and Jeter playing in the backyard. John later told me when Lucifer first went outside, his eyes darted back and forth - looking at the white, cottony blanket in our backyard. As soon as Jeter romped into the winter wonderland, Lucifer joyfully joined him. Call me sick if you want, but you know many of you do the same thing - the funniest reaction to the weather, which really isn't a reaction at all, but merely some law of physics and gravity or whatever. When everything was coated with a sheet of ice from the freezing rain, Lucifer's legs splayed every which way when he tried to walk. But the clincher was when he somehow got his footing enough to make his daring escape from wintry nightmare - after dashing several steps, he hit the sleet-covered sidewalk and slid head first, crashing into the door. He stood up, shook off the excess moisture and bounded through the door with all the confidence of a young German shepherd, wearing a look on his face that said, "I meant to do that." --- Tammy Malgesini is the EO community editor. Her column, Inside my shoes, appears twice a month. You can reach her at tmalgesini@eastoregonian.com or 541-564-4539.