Yesterday, my kids and husband made a snowman. Innocent enough, right? Everyone makes snowmen when it snows. However, I didn’t realize they were evil until last night.
It’s our first significant snow of the year. Hot chocolate has never gone so fast. Kids, friends, husband, dog–they’re all enjoying the cold white stuff. I usually tend to watch the stuff from inside.
Back to the snowman. They finished it just at dark last night. Strange-looking, skinnier than most (apparently the snow didn’t want to stick together), with tree-hair, a carrot for a nose and branches for arms, it stood in the front yard all alone. Our neurotic dog stood watch over the house (from the inside) while the creature was being constructed. Her frequent barking and endless pacing I attributed to neighborhood dogs walking by. She usually doesn’t bark at anything except an empty food bowl, or when you’re playing with her.
You know how they say dogs can sense things?
Apparently that snowman in the front yard is evil. Pure, unadulterated evil. During her nightly sojourn to do her ‘business’ before bed, our dog saw the creature. It was bad. Really bad. She wouldn’t go anywhere near it. My husband tried to introduce her to it and show her that it was just an innocent snowman. You know, the slow, gentle introductions when you lead the dog over there and they realize they were being stupid? Yeah–didn’t work.
I figured it was probably because it was dark outside. After all, the snowman was only lit by the front porch light, and it doesn’t really reach that far out into the yard. Of course the dog would think the shadowed, scary figure was a demon from snow-hell. She’d be fine during the daylight, right?
Our sweet, neurotic dog stared out the window many times during the night, shoving her head under the curtain to make sure the creature didn’t attack the house. Her rumbling growls and low barking woke us up several times. At least we knew we were safe.
But alas, daylight brought no comfort. According to the dog, the snowman is still evil.
She just stares out the window and paces, waiting for it to attack. When she’s not sleeping in front of the heater, that is. Even demons have to wait until she’s warm.