The Puppy Who Met Winter

The first snowflake fell just as Maple pressed her nose to the window. The world outside, once a patchwork of fallen leaves and brown grass, had started to sparkle. She tilted her head, ears perked, tail giving an uncertain wag. The air seemed different — crisper, quieter. And something magical was happening beyond that glass.

When the door finally opened, Maple bounded out like a spring released. Her tiny golden paws hit the cold ground and immediately sank into the soft white powder. She froze. Blinked. Then sneezed — a big, puppy sneeze that sent a puff of snow flying.

The sensation was confusing at first. The ground was cold, the air full of floating flakes that tickled her face and stuck to her fur. But curiosity beat confusion. Maple began to leap through the snowdrifts, each hop sending up sprays of glitter. She pounced on her own footprints, chased the wind, and barked at the falling flakes as if daring them to land again.

Her owner laughed from the porch, wrapped in a blanket, coffee steaming in hand. “Go get it, Maple!” she called, tossing a snowball gently across the yard. Maple chased it, of course — because that’s what you do when someone throws something. But the snowball exploded on impact, vanishing into the blanket of white. Maple stopped, confused again, looking around for her missing prize.

She sniffed the ground, pawed at it, then barked once more — just to make sure the snow knew she wasn’t fooled. Then, as if deciding she had outsmarted it, she flopped down right in the middle of the yard, rolling onto her back with pure delight.

The world above her spun with falling flakes — millions of tiny, frozen stars. Her fur sparkled, her tail swept snow into little arcs, and her tongue lolled out in a big, goofy grin.

It was her first winter, her first snow, her first discovery that cold could feel so wonderfully alive.

When her owner finally called her back inside, Maple shook herself off — snow flying in every direction — and bounded toward the door, still full of energy. Inside, wrapped in a towel and praise, she curled up by the fire. Her eyelids drooped, her fur still dusted with melting flakes.

Outside, snow kept falling, soft and steady. And as Maple drifted off to sleep, her paws twitched — chasing snowflakes in her dreams.