We thought we'd experienced 'wet dog.' We'd had a partial autumn with our new furry family member. But really? Present April showers make last November's cold rain seem like puppy play. The wet dog stench, the splattered walls when you don't get to him before he shakes, the muddy footprints... My grumbling mantra:
"I will not kill this dog, I love this dog, I want this dog, I will not kill this dog, I love this dog, I want this dog."
Torrential rain pour this morning. Something David said to me as he kissed me during my teeth brushing stuck in my head.."Uh, hon?"
"When you said you'd thrown the dog towel into the dryer to dry...?"
"Did you mean the really muddy one?"
"Yeah..." He's sensing that something's up, I can tell by his voice.
"I'm just gonna maybe put in on top of an air vent instead," I say as I pull it from the dryer, where is has been tumbling... along with freshly washed tea towels and our kitchen rug...
David's eyes narrow, he'd been proactive, he was helping. "O...kay...?" (pause, two, three...) And then his eyes widen. "OH... Right."
I have a premonition: I see us buying bulk hand towels in a muddy brown colour that we shall then place at every door.