Showing posts with label wet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wet. Show all posts

Sunday, October 10, 2010

Wimpy dogs

There's Alanis refusing to go to the back yard and pee. It has been raining steadily since yesterday. She did not want to go out in the dark last night, nor out in the dim morning. Miro wasn't too eager, either, but he followed me to the yard and "emptied the tank," as one writer put it. Alanis simply walked out to the patio, turned around and went back to wait at the door.

They will happily walk around the neighborhood with me in the rain while I get soaking wet. But go out to the wet yard? Alone? In the dark? No way!

It's lighter out now, as light as it will get today, so we'll try again. Meanwhile, the chickens emerged from their house, looked around, railed against nature with high-pitched whines, and retreated.

Friday, September 17, 2010

Remembering better weather

We've had days of glum wet dark humid rainy weather, a promise of much more of the same to come. Miro and I are doing lots of "fetch" indoors while Alanis, not understanding the concept of running after a toy, much less bringing it back, stands in front of me wagging her tail. Miro gets praised for bringing the toy back--sometimes I don't even have to pry it out of his mouth!--and Alanis gets praised for standing there.

Here's the real reason for this post. I was recalling sunshine by looking at photos from a couple of weeks ago in Victoria's Butchart Gardens.
This is part of the sunken garden, a former quarry.

And Krispy Creme, the honorary Indus Airedale, in her "rub my belly" pose.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

The human handkerchief

It began when I squatted down to put a paper in a bottom file drawer. Alanis, having just finished dinner, decided the back of my sweater made an attractive target. Sniff, sniff. Rub, rub. Ooo, great place for wiping the wet beard and the nubby texture of the sweater felt good against a fuzz-face.

What can a person do at a time like this? Fall over laughing, becoming an invitation for Alanis to wipe her face all over me so that I totally smell like wet Airedale beard and she is clean and dry.

Then she settled in for some serious work on the squeaky fleece toy.