Take a herd of galloping otters, a flagon of molten chocolate, a prime-ministerial Maxine McKew, combine 'em, and still you ain't got a cocktail as downright pleasing as this one.
It's mon cheri, le Wilbur, caught in a rare moment of not-sleeping-on-the-couch-ness, coupled with my all time favourite form o' precipitation.
The only thing better than a dog in snow is snow in a dog in snow. If anyone's the dog for the snow-eating job, Wilb's that dog.
"You gonna throw that snowball? Are you? Because I'll be ready. Just watch me."
Here I narrowly missed obtaining graphic evidence of Wilbur's al fresco micturation prowess. You'll just have to take my word for it. He's got prowess. In spades.