It snowed and it snowed and it snowed, and the wind blew and blew and blew. After the blizzard, though, it was clear and cold and sunny, and Mister Wicked and KV went outside to dig. Mister Wicked liked to dig. KV did not. Mister Wicked dug with his paws, here, there, and everywhere. KV began to dig out the path to the door, and the car. It did not take very long, though, for Mister Wicked to decide he was cold, even though he was wearing his nice warm coat. It was all very well, thought Mister Wicked, for the humans to tell him his ancestors were mighty German Shepherds and Siberian Huskies. In the genetic lottery, he might have gotten the shiny white fur and the big pointy ears and the curly tail, but what he hadn’t gotten was any underfur. And it was minus seventeen, and a cold wild wind was blowing from the west, and even with his coat on, he was cold. So Mister Wicked hit the aluminum storm door, bang, which is how he lets the humans know he wants in, when he is out. (When he is inside, he hits the garbage can, clang! to let them know he wants out. The humans want to teach him to ring a bell, which will sound nicer, but they haven’t gotten around to it yet.)
“Wimp,” said KV, in a genial way, and she tried to open the door to let him in.
The door would not open. Mister Wicked did not understand the subtleties of mechanics and physics; he did not know that the outside latch of the storm door was frozen like a rock, so that the door, once it was closed, could not be unlatched from outside. (KV, until that moment, had not known either.) All he knew was that the human, with her silly big leather mittens he was not allowed to chew on, was rattling the door but not letting him in.
“The door is stuck,” she said, and rattled it some more, which is what humans do when things are stuck. Then she hit it a bit. Mister Wicked hit it again too. The door was suitably chastised, but this did not make it open.
Fortunately the Spouse was inside somewhere. Unfortunately, he thought all the knocking on the door, and the rapping on the window, and the thumping of the side of the house, was only KV shovelling snow, so he sat at his computer, typing, typing, typing, and ignoring all the banging.
KV used the broom for sweeping off the car to beat … – – – … on the side of the house under the Spouse’s upstairs window. The Spouse was oblivious.
Mister Wicked hit the door again and looked reproachfully at KV.
“The door is frozen,” said KV. “Look.” And she pulled and pulled on the door handle.
Now Mister Wicked understood. For some reason, even a human could not open the door. Mister Wicked found this very worrying. He was so worried he stood up on his hind legs and put his paws on the human’s shoulders. He stared at her with big round worried dark eyes. “Oh no!” his eyes said. “We cannot get in! We’re trapped outside! What shall we do?”
What do you do when your Spouse ignores someone beating the house in Morse code? That’s a very good question. KV climbed on a snowdrift and began to throw large lumps of snow up at the Spouse’s study window. Mister Wicked was excited. Yes! This looked like a good idea. He began to leap about and dig, to demonstrate his enthusiasm for her Cunning Plan.
And it worked. Soon they saw the flash of puzzled glasses peering out the window. “Help! Help!” shouted KV, and she pointed to the door. “We’re frozen out!”
The Spouse came downstairs, opened the door, and let Mister Wicked in. They fixed the storm door with the rubber band off some broccoli, so it could not latch. And then the Spouse and Mister Wicked went to sit down in the nice cosy warm house.
KV went back to shovelling snow in the cold and windy winter, all alone.