REIGNING CATS & DOGS
Whose bed is this, anyway?
I was rather relieved to see it was raining this morning when I awoke, because it meant the first dog walk of the day would be necessarily delayed. For the past few days I've been a bit under the weather, even before it got here, so I didn't feel much up to dog walking. It's a two-person job walking two 60-pound hounds, but with my husband convalescing from minor surgery the past week, I've been designated as sole dog walker. When I came down sick, too, the dogs weren't about to let me off the hook. The way my knees have been this past year, I keep threatening to hire a dog walker, but Peaches wouldn't tolerate that, I know. She doesn't cotton much to strangers. Plus, why have dogs if you aren't willing to spend time with them or give them the attention they crave?
So, ailments aside, I took them out for a walk today during the first break in the weather. If I didn't, they'd pester and sulk and make me feel so guilty they'd eventually get their way. What can be more guilt-inducing than the droopy countenance of a basset hound? There isn't enough Botox in the world. I suppose it's a good thing we only have four-legged children, because we spoil them so badly. I confess that I find spoiled dogs far easier to tolerate than spoiled children. In fact, I'd like to see a whole lot more spoiled dogs in the world.
At least today's unexpected downpour afforded me a leisurely morning cuddle with Peaches and Beau in my bed, and if Dr. Beau and Nurse Peaches can't heal what ails you, then I don't know what can. Fortunately, they hadn't already been out in the rain before they creapt into my bed.