And the Rains Came

Okay, I said the rain arrived already, but it is really, really, really raining now. The air is white with the sheets of driven raindrops. The pepper tree limbs have been waving frantically, as though signaling for help from somewhere. It's too dark now to see any other trees, but even the sturdy oak limbs have been known to move in such gusty winds. After refusing to go outside three times during the afternoon, Lucy finally had to be physically coaxed out. It hardly seemed fair to push her out alone (I'm more sensitive than that), I went with her into the big back yard. We stood in the downpour, but no amount of encouragement got her to go out a ways and do her business. I could tell it was on her mind, though. She's very expressive, both face and body language. Finally, when we were both totally soaked, she lowered her head and tail and, in obvious distress over the weather, disappeared around the stone house. I don't know what she did over there alone, but I have to hope that when she returned the deed was done. It took some towels and effort to dry both of us off. I had to change all my clothes. Now Lucy is fed and dry, cozy on Mama's multi-colored afghan (well, sometimes she's on the couch), and my crockpot mulligan is beginning to smell quite edible. Enough for one day.

(Oh, if you've been praying for rain . . . I think it might be time to ease off for a while.) (smile) Love by the bucketful, SilverBee