Doggies—nay—doggies in the snow. There is literally nothing better. I used to have a fluffy Chow Chow, Briard mix who was basically a giant fur ball. Whenever it would snow out he’d trot down the side of the street where the snow was piled highest. Snow was his calling. He’d always run away during blizzards because he just needed that sweet, white fairy dust. After a couple of days he’d get too cold and hungry, we’d find him eating pizza crusts outside of the pizza shop and jingle our keys. He’d come running back to us, fluff and all, covered in snow, like a majestic dog-Yeti having survived an epic journey. The snow in New York City is pretty yucky but if I was born with a fabulous coat, I don’t think I’d be able to resist rolling around in it like these pups.