It took me a few days to figure out which one of the two knuckleheads was responsible for the paw prints going up AND down my windshield. There were hundreds of pawprints--almost as if someone was tap dancing the 'ol soft shoe just to annoy me.
Perhaps it was the incline of the windshield that made it so much fun, but someone found some fun that didn't require going outside into the cold rain. It wasn't the pawprints I minded, but the sliiiiiddde down that really smeared my view.
Poor Grace took the blame and the heat until I opened the garage door one night and found this. There was Hobbes, beaming proudly at his latest escapade, and it made me laugh. Criminy, I can't stay mad at him for anything.
Happy Thanksgiving, pallies. May you and your families enjoy your day, each other, and some yummy food.