Not a rescue dog

We had over 20 inches of snow this weekend and Regis loved it. He was chest deep in the fresh powder and made his prints everywhere we went. He had to so much fun he barely cared when I fell into the snow and called his name. He eventually found me, a puffy black blob of down sinking into a white quicksand. As I called his name repeatedly he finally wandered by and scratched my hood five times before taking off in the snow again.