There’s a spot up the road from the house where something stinky and appealing to a dog attracted Chico all fall. It wasn’t sticky, or even smelly to me, but he was enthralled daily with the scent.

Even under eight or ten inches of snow, it’s still attractive.

As soon as he can, he takes off for that spot.

He runs down the road to ‘the spot.’

What ever it is smells through the snow.

But he can’t quite reach it from the plowed area.

No matter how much he stretches.

So he has to dive in.

And really dig.

And he comes up looking like this:

Snow face.