It's melting!

I didn't think it was possible, but the temperature has risen above freezing in Chicago for the first time since the beginning of 2009.

The snow that at first seemed pretty, clean and white became gray, icy and hard. With no way to melt, snow just accumulated, turning sidewalks into icy deathtraps or concrete valleys flanked by man made, shovel-marked walls.

My car, abused by the artic air and salt spit from passing car tires will get a rest from the brush and scratching of my newly purchased ice scraper. When first moving to Chicago, I thought my handheld, squeegee on one side and 4 inch plastic scraper on the other would suffice against Midwestern winters. Bullshit.

Now I'm equipped with the biggest, deluxe brush, expandable handle scraper my local CVS store had to offer.

With the promise of melting snow and ice comes freedom. I might get up one morning and decide to try out one of the 20 pairs of shoes gathering dust in my closet while my new Columbia snow boots never leave their space outside my front door. My front hall closet might open and reveal the many lighter, more stylish coats rather than switching back and forth between my puffy, blue Columbia ski jacket and heaviest black leather option that passes for professional. We might be able to use our back door for taking down the recycling before the squirrels rip apart every cereal box and toilet paper tube without risking death on slippery stairs. Oh the possibilities!

The thing I'm looking forward to the most, the thing that makes my fingers shake with longing as I check weather.com one more time to make sure it wasn't a lie.

For the first time in weeks, my dog's face won't smell like pee.

Even though it's been cold, snowy and miserable in the city. People still take their four-legged friends for daily walks. It's on these walks that dogs tend to lift a leg or squat and mark their territory. (As far as Milo's concerned, he currently owns two entire blocks in Roscoe Village.)

Since the temperature has been cold enough to literally freeze tears on my face, this urine doesn't sink into the earth never to be bothered with again except for the occasional dead patch of grass. Not at all. If making yellow snow cones were a profitable business, I'm convinced my neighborhood would the the lead supplier for most of the Midwest.

Milo, like all dogs, loves the smell of urine. He has to sniff it out to make sure he knows who to kill for encroaching on his territory. I understand completely.

Since Milo's squished features look like he took a frying pan to the face at some point in his youth, sniffing frozen urine means diving in face first. All that cute, fuzzy, facial hair collects crystallized dog pee like some sick sort of velcro.

Thanks for the reprieve, mother nature. Here's to seeing the grass for the first time in over a month and not having to wash Milo's pee face twice a day!