Were she asked, she'd point out that there's worse things to have to do on snowy days - like ride through a snowstorm on a Tauntaun. Easily the smelliest thing she'd ever been near. But in any event, she nods as she speaks.

"Yeah, it's called a dog, apparently. I've named him Luke. But yeah, furry little guy."

Speaking of: guess who immediately bounds up towards the stranger, looking up with a little yap of greeting, tail slowly wagging.