My mom and I are both ready for winter to be over. Mom was sure she had put away her big parka for the last time, but no: yesterday was really cold. We walked to the UPS store to pick up some packages. On the way back, we found ourselves in a snowstorm. My muzzle was covered with fat, white flakes. 
But my mom keeps pointing to signs of spring. On our morning walk, she said, “Gracie, look — crocuses! First sign of spring!”
She tried to get me to go over and sniff them. “It would be a great photo op,” she said.
But why would I want to sniff flowers? That’s what cats do. I could care less. So here I am sniffing an old potato chip wrapper. Maybe I’ll find a five-year-old chicken bone. Much more interesting. Who’s going to eat a crocus?
I’m with you, Gracie — flowers smell way too sweet. My favorite Spring smells are under the earth, with the fat juicy worms. In order to really smell them the way they should be smelled, you have to dig a hole. But this might make your human unhappy, so hole digging should always be done when your human cannot see you doing it.
— Goody Beagle