Winters with our beloved nutter, Manic, are much as I remember mothering toddlers... I frequently ask her if she needs to potty & I watch her like a hawk because I know that she's waiting until the last minute to agree to go outside in this wretched cold snap of the last few weeks.
Then it takes me 3 or 4 minutes to get her into her sweater & firmly velcro a heavier coat on over that, tie her adorable little hat snugly under her chin to keep her little ears from shattering like a glass bubble. It's a struggle to put her boots on as she protests non-stop.
I finally have her all geared up & shove her out the door. She does a huge Spanish Walk, shaking each elevated foot dramatically in protest, but at last does get down to business.
I wait at the door. There is no sense in sitting down, or in going to the restroom myself, because she will soon be back, shivering, bouncing above the level of the window sill, emphatically pointing out that she needs in. Now. please.