Some dogs enjoy snow.
Toby did not enjoy it. Toby worshipped it.
Whenever the first snowfall arrived, most people in Quebec groaned. Stephanie sighed. I mentally prepared for shoveling. The entire population braced for winter.
But Toby?
Toby saw snow and immediately lost his mind.
He did not just want to play in it. He wanted to merge with it.
He wanted to become one with the frozen universe.
He believed that if he ate enough snow, he would achieve some sort of spiritual transformation.
The moment his paws touched the fresh powder, he turned into a creature of pure joy. He jumped into it. He buried his face in it. He dove, rolled, bounced, climbed, flopped, snorted and inhaled snow like it was premium imported sugar.
And then came his true passion.
The eating.
Toby ate snow with the commitment of an Olympian.
One flake at a time.
Then entire mouthfuls.
Then entire chunks.
He chased falling flakes with surgical precision.
He tried to catch all of them, as if snow was raining down specifically for him.
And as he ate it, he felt proud.
As if he was accomplishing something important.
As if he could actually fit an entire snowfall inside his poodle stomach.
The problem was that snow melts.
And melted snow turns into water.
And Toby was inhaling gallons of it without understanding the consequences.
After a good snow-eating session, the real fun began.
He needed to pee.
Not once.
Not twice.
Ten to fifteen times.
Every twenty minutes he would stare at us with panic in his eyes, as if saying, “It is time again and I cannot hold it.”
Out we went.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Sometimes Stephanie and I stood by the door in our winter coats, exhausted, while Toby happily relieved himself for what felt like the fiftieth time.
And because both of us worked in medical fields, we immediately jumped to the worst possible conclusion.
“Is he dissolving his electrolytes?”
“Is he going to get water intoxication?”
“This is not normal. Please stop eating snow.”
“Toby, you are going to make yourself sick.”
Toby heard none of it.
He did not acknowledge science.
He did not acknowledge human medical logic.
He acknowledged snow and nothing else.
He went right back to eating it with the enthusiasm of a dog who had never seen food in his life. His entire black face turned white and crystallized from the frost. Ice clung to his fur. Snow covered every part of him. He looked like a half poodle, half snowman creature sent from the Arctic.
He was freezing.
He was soaked.
He was happy.
Toby did not fear winter.
Toby became winter.
Classic Toby.