It's even too cold to suit the dog

It's ten degrees, with a strong wing blowing.  In other words, totally miserable.  
I went in the bedroom to get my clothes for the day, and Sadie got out of her bed and shook like she always does, just to make sure there's plenty of her super-fine dog hair in every corner of the room.  I asked her if she wanted to potty, and she went to the door.  
I hadn't even gotten the door closed before she did her "bark-bark" to signal that she wanted back in.

I looked through the ice-glazed glass of the storm door, and there she stood:  wanting in without doing what she had been sent out there to do.  It had been fourteen hours since her last trip outside, for pete's sake.  So I commanded her sternly, "Go potty!"

I must say, she completed the mission in record time, and was quickly back at the door saying, "Bark-bark!"

This cabin fever is obviously getting to me; I've resorted to sharing pictures of my dog peeing.  How could I have sunk so low?
Actually, I need to back away from the computer; there's a flurry going on at another blog, and I can't stay away from the comment section there.  The blog entry isn't interesting at all, but the comments?  Wow!  (Sorry, I won't link to it; I'm keeping my nose clean.)