Sometimes I crack myself up.

This morning was one of those times.  Matter of fact I'm still giggling. 

Over the last several days, because of the cold, I've been keeping the sliding door of the morning room closed, locked, and draped at all times.  As a result Zorro had been doing his bath room duties out front.  This has been working great.  I stand just inside the storm door, and watch him like a hawk because I know the law says dogs have to be leashed, or fenced and never left alone just in case they might come in contact with the public and bite someone.  (Since I never know when Bird Lady might be walking her dog, I'm very careful to make sure Zorro behaves himself.)

Anyway, this morning, I go round the house turning on the heat, then proceed to feed my furry friends.  Next on the agenda is to put Zorro out.  It's cold, still bitter, bitter cold and there's a dusting of snow.  I wonder if Zorro will even venture out.  I'm pleased he does.

Click.

I expected him to do his duty quickly and make a mad dash back to the house.  Instead, he doddle's.  I'm standing just inside the storm door, admiring my white neighborhood.  My hand is on the metal of the door, it's cold, so is the glass.  I like the feel of it, it isn't like holding an ice cube, that cold hurts, this is different, almost medicinal.  If I had a headache I think this kind of cold would be very soothing.

Anyway...Zorro finally decides he wants to come in.  I turn the handle downward, to open the door.  It does not budge.  Zorro, being used to the door swinging open, dang near had no time to stop himself and almost crashed into the closed door.  He starts to dance around, he wants in.  Badly.

I try the latch again. Nothing. 

I try again, and then again.  Nothing.

By now Zorro panics.  Boy, does he want in.

My mind is racing.  I lean over and blow on the handle, thinking maybe my warm breath will melt the cold handle enough for me to be able to open the door.  The latch would still not budge.

Maybe I should get some warm water to run down the side of the door.  Of course I thought better of that immediately.  I didn't want to clean up a stream of water.  I'm not dressed yet, but that is my next thought.  Dress, un-do my blocked off slider, go round the house, open the gate, call Zorro to me, so together we can come back to the house. 

Yeah, that's the ticket.

Frankie appears.  She sees frantic Zorro. she sees frantic me, then pushes me out of the way.......

.....and, unlocks the door.  It opens in a flash and Zorro comes charging inside.

Frankie loves these moments. 

I double over in laughter, damn, Frankie's right, I'm one stupid old woman.  Here was one more instance I made a mountain out of a mole hill.

And, of course, she's right.

Frankie:  (Walking away.)  Idiot.