Jack Frost.

I have always loved fall and winter. I love the clothes, I love the snuggly indoor nights in front of the fireplace and I love that for the most part, humidity flies south for the winter. I choose rosy winter cheeks over a tan any day. Since rescuing Melvin, fall has taken on a whole new importance. While I can control Melvin’s food allergies with diligence and perseverance, I cannot command the damage done to him from his outdoor allergies. His skin and paws are raw, reddened and inflamed starting pretty early in September. The element’s effect on my boy are brutal and unrelenting and while medication helps a bit, Melvin suffers.

So while everyone is fearing the first frost and it’s promise of winter coming, I welcome it wholeheartedly. I dance and sing and cheer for it. I bow to the first frost year after year. The moment that frost shows up, Melvin finds relief. It’s instantaneous. He will enjoy almost six-months of a relatively normal existence (as long as I continue to wash his bedding daily and control his every bite of food and treat).

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