Tobey’s epic battle with the snowman occurred about a month ago. At the time, the snowdrifts were easily 3-4 feet high, and the snow was about 1-2 feet deep everywhere else. An industrious group of college students took advantage of the situation by making an imposing eight foot snowman. It is with this snowman that Tobey attempted to do battle.
I was walking Bear and Tobey over a snow bank, an event itself worthy of narration; however, our focus is on something else right now: Tobey’s intense stare. He had seen it about 25 yards away. He crouched down to hide behind the snow bank, to hide from the enormous white monster. Tobey typically makes it a point to challenge things much larger than himself (e.g. moving trucks, Siberian Huskies, and anything else that gets in his way), so it was no surprise that he was readying himself for attack. He took in his surroundings, fully appreciating that his white body would provide camouflage when moving over the snow. He slowly crept forward, being careful not to make a noise, getting closer with every new paw print. From a distance of about 12 yards, he unleashed his attack, springing forward with incredible speed. Nothing but a white blur, he began barking furiously at 8 yards. At 2 yards, when he preparing for the moment of brutal contact, he was flung backwards. He saw that the white monster had apparently not noticed him, for he remained still and calm, oblivious to the fury which almost befell him. Tobey looked back toward me and became all too aware of the leash which prevented him from championing the monster. After giving me a hard, long stare, he briefly turned to the snowman, hurled a few defiant barks, and then trotted away from the snowman with as much dignity as he had left.