Our dog is broken

What could possibly make our dog Bob cower on the back porch like this? Snow.

Believe or not, Bob, who is part Siberian Husky, refused to go out in the snow this morning. We got about an inch of unexpected snow today in Durham. He eventually sauntered out into the snow, jumped around a bit at my urging and then came back on the porch with his ears down. I tried to tell him that he's a sled dog and he should love the snow, but he just begged to go back inside. What a big baby!

Bad mommy? Part 2

I put my infant son on his playmat in the living room while I fixed myself some lunch. He fussed for a few minutes, talked to his toys a bit and drifted off to sleep. Every so often he fussed and cried in his sleep, but for the past half hour, all has been quiet. I feel bad because the playmat is on top of a hard wood floor. He obviously doesn't seem to mind and I don't think he'll remember this when he's 18. I did get a nice, undisturbed lunch out of it, though. I've come to the conclusion that if I don't take care of me, I can't take care of him. That means I need to eat, need a shower at least every two days and I need to get enough water even if it means he cries for a few minutes. It's not like he'll mention it to his therapist when he's older.

Alfalfa or Ed Grimley?