Gigi’s waiting at the door to be let out. While I wait on her to finish her business, I make a pot of coffee and stir the fireplace back to life and throw on a couple more logs. I stomp my boots on and walk out back to grab an armful of logs from the back porch. Everything is covered in white, and it looks gorgeous. I’ve lived in Colorado my entire life, and I never get tired of looking at a freshly dumped snowfall. Gigi comes bounding around the corner, her coat covered in snow. She stops just long enough to root her nose in the snow until it disappears, then flicks her head up, throwing snow
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