We get up fairly early in the mornings.
Actually, that is a bit of an understatement. Sometimes it is so early that we seem to meet ourselves going to bed, like the Monty Python sketch.
This morning, I was the first one up and I went downstairs to make coffee.
PieDog sleeps in the kitchen, beside the Rayburn and I have to be all prepared as I know what is going to happen. I open the little hall door and the big front door - a blast of cold air fills my lungs and slaps me awake.
I open the kitchen door and PieDog squeaks with joy, his entire body becomes a wag and he moves from side to side like a salmon swimming up a river.
His nose and tail meet and he tries to jump up, snuffle your ankles, push his feed dish and squeak all at the same time.
I try to let him outside but he is now completely in Losing the Plot mode. I lift him up and cuddle him for a while.
"Look Pie, the snow is melting!"....I place him in the courtyard and close the hall door. I watch him from the little west window and he is busy sniffing the myriad of smells a farm can offer.