The Missing Mutluk

More dark skies and cold rain here in Virginia this morning.  As my sister who lives in Vermont wrote yesterday, she mentioned that they were experiencing a blizzard.  I am sure it sounds strange to those who live in New England and other wintry climes, but I miss snow.  Oh I have not forgotten having to bundle up and shovel through several feet of the white stuff clearing the driveway and making paths to the barn and hen house.  The numb fingers, stiff yet dripping nose, the tingling toes.  But the reward for those efforts was not only the beauty
of stopping for a breath as it hung in white puffs in the crisp air
and looking over the field to the snow-laden pines beyond, the fence posts wearing tall white caps standing in a row like toy soldiers, but the welcome greeting as you opened the barn door.
 Neighs, maa from the goats and hens clucking merrily, the warm scent of animal breath as they welcomed you to their
dwelling knowing that hay and grain was soon to be placed before them.  Barn cats appeared from their burrows in the hay stacks, purring, rubbing around the ankles of snowy boots, anticipating the bowl of warm ,frothy goat milk.  
So yes, I miss snow.
One winter my Australian Shepherd, Heather, and I spent with my elderly Mother & Dad in Vermont.  My Dad, in his early 90s, still insisted upon shoveling a path to the bird feeder and to the bank beyond the back yard where he had his compost heap.
I used to take Heather for a daily long walk in back of their home, down the shoveled path to the abandoned fields below.  Heather had a lined  wind and water proof dog coat  to wear.  Her paws; however, frequently packed with snow until she was walking on golf balls made of  hard snow.  She would stop and try to gnaw her toes free.  I would pull off my gloves and try to assist.  My Mother saw an ad for doggie snow boots cleverly advertised as Mutluks-
Mukluks for dogs.  She ordered a set for Heather.  The day they arrived I told Heather to "stand-stay" while I lifted each paw and fitted her new mutluk.  Once they were snugly bound to each foot, I told her  okay and she moved forward, stopping immediately and lifting first one foot then another high in the air.  She shook each foot.  The mutluk clung.  I coaxed her down the hall, Heather walking very much like a Hackney pony, high-stepping.  Finally we went outside and into the snow.  She began to walk normally.  Was she realizing the snow no longer balled in her toes?  Did she understand that the mutluks were keeping her feet warmer too?  At any rate she stopped fighting them and
when we reached the plowed but icy street  she was  walking at a normal gait.  Then WHOOPS-as she began to trot, her feet slid, the smooth-bottom mutluks acting like mini sleds. Heather
was a very bright dog, one who thought things through.  She seemed to decide this skating was fun and soon was trotting a few steps, then coasting.
Now each morning as I dressed Heather in her coat she sniffed at the bag where the mutluks reposed obviously wanting them on her feet.  She held up each paw as I placed them on, snugging the velcro strap around her ankle.  Off we would go for our romp in the wintry world.  
Then came the sad morning when, as we approached the back door, I noted one bare back foot-the mutluk was gone.  We had plowed through much deep snow on our walk, and having no idea where the missing mutluk might have come loose, I feared it lost.
Heather was trained, as part of her obedience trial work, to seek back, which was to retrace steps to locate a lost item such as a glove.  Naturally this was done on an indoor floor or in a mowed grassy area.  Heather was very good at this, tracking back the route rapidly, finding the red woolen glove I used for training, and returning it to me.  I had little hope this ability of hers woul

d help locate the missing mutluk.  But worth a try if she was game.  I pointed to the mutluk on her front paw, telling her to "Find it".  Heather swung about and headed back the way we had prevously walked.  She followed our prints in the snow, ever deepening now as it had begun to storm again.  The prints became faint and I knew she could never spot the small
bootie as it would be covered with the new snow.  I had forgotten about the amazing nose.   Before we had progressed too very far, Heather stopped.  Sniffing through the fluffy new snowfall, she began to dig.   There, sticking up in the
packed snow , stood the missing mutluk.  Heather gently pulled it from it's hiding place and pushed her mutluk-filled mouth to my hand.  I shook it free of  snow, cleaned her empty paw of 
clinging snowballs and strapped the mutluk to her foot.  She danced a bit heading home.  I did not need to praise or reward her (though I did).  She was rewarded enough when she found her much loved mutluk and it was once again on her prancing paw.

My sister's Greyhounds dressed for inclement weather in outfits she made.  What--no mutluks??