Wasn't that a week of snow, though! Seemed that every time we had left our calling cards along the snowbanks, the ploughs would come along again and bury them.  Ýou're a beagle and maybe your sniffer is more finely attuned to whiffing out the evidence of who has passed by that morning, evening beneath the snow.  But for we dogs of lesser schnoz, it gets pretty challenging to keep up with the news of who's out and about.