He is a dog that would live his life on a couch getting belly scratches and pawdicures, so snow...much less cold is an affront to his nature.
The other two go out and do their business (Bosley still couldn't care less about the snow) but he just looks at me. After a few minutes of puppy mind control I realize he likely expects me to hold his bunny butt so he doesn't get his paws dirty... I unceremoniously lure him into the trenches with a chicken heart.
Yes. I'm that cruel.