Overnight, a few snowflakes multiplied into an all-encompassing blanket of white snow over the landscape. The next morning, Jared awoke in his newly-provided barrel/doghouse, stretched, and felt a snowflake land on his nose.
He would have quenched his thirst with a drink from the bucket, but he found a thick layer of ice blocking his access. He whimpered and looked longingly at the frozen water. Now that he couldn't have what he wanted, he wanted it even more. After more pointless whimpering, he slaked the thirst with a mouthful of snow. Plunging his face into the drifted snow, however, produced a frizzle of frozen icicles under his shaggy chin.
He spent the next couple of hours far too interested in the antics of a couple of squirrels chasing each other in the limbs of an oak tree growing adjacent to the shed. The agile rodents frustrated Jared's doggy instincts to no end, which caused the teenager a great deal of anxiety as he experienced the difficulty in shoving aside the dog's interest in the distraction of the squirrels to he could have a few minutes of thought focused on countering his undesirable situation.
Ralph's arrival, coinciding with a time of peak interest in the squirrels in the oak, reduced Jared to a barking, quivering mess. He smelled the scent of the kibble from the instant Ralph stepped out of his truck. He whimpered some more. "Hungry!" Jared's mind screamed. "Need food!"
Ralph chuckled and poured the food into the dog's bowl. "You think you'd been forgotten, boy," Ralph said as he turned to the bucket. He broke the layer of ice and emptied the bucket before re-filling it with fresh water from the hose.
"You'll have to get used to a new schedule over the holidays, boy," Ralph said.
His hunger partly abated, Jared exerted enough willpower to take a break from scarfing kibble. He looked up at Ralph and barked twice. "What did you say?"
Ralph responded by petting the dog's shaggy head. "It won't be so bad," Ralph continued, almost as if he had heard. "I'll stop by once a day, but you can have an extra portion of food."
Jared growled in frustration. "Hey!" Ralph objected. "Don't get surly with me, dog."
The harsh tone and direct manner produced shameful whimpers from Jared as sheepdog instincts prevailed and tried to make amends, including a lick of Ralph's gloved hands.
"That's better," Ralph said and cuffed the top of Jared's head.
"This is worse than being a prisoner!" Jared reflected. "Kibble and water twice a day!"
He grew so morose he hardly noticed when Ralph left, or when the sound of cloven hooves sliced through the fresh snow and a scent of mistletoe and something fishy reached his nostrils.
Jared's sense fired on all cylinders when he detected the being's thoughts pushed into his mind.
"Greetings, boy," Wepwawet began. "I thought I'd check to see what progress you've made."