Jack Frost’s exquisite art obscured my view as temperatures fell outside. Snow floated lazily downward. I succumbed to an idyllic siesta, peacefully composed on the sofa back. Suddenly the hounds from hell charged my sanctuary howling at some imagined mouse fart outside. Jolted awake, I plummeted to the floor, paws flailing.
“Damn dogs!!” I hissed angrily.