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.