His eyes lift at her voice and he gives her a dry look. Right. Evil Ice Ball is her fault. Crunchy ice is fun. Hard ice isn't. So he'll sit down for a minute with the ball at his feet and study it carefully, tail curled around his haunches, nose tipped down almost against his chest. Finally, apparently reaching a decision, he'll sneeze and stand up. Nosing around a bit, he'll finally settle on a spot. And start digging.