As I sit here, late at night, needing to go bed, listening to the rain, I am reminded of the fall when it was so rainy. The following is a post from my other blog that I have copied because I wanted to share my nostalgic moment with all my dog-loving friends. Oh, rainy days, they can be a challenge with two outdoor loving dogs. Here's the previous post:
Well, the pitter patter of little paws has turned into the splitter splatter of big paws. It continues to rain and rain and rain. Now this really wouldn't usually bother me. I love the cool weather that the rain brings. However, our yard that was once a beautifully overgrown Irish green is now a watered down mud puddle, killing our grass that we worked so hard to grow. You can compare these pictures with those of Bradley as a puppy and see the difference. Speaking of the little devil. I hope the squirrels don't starve this winter since Bradley has dug up and eaten every nut they have buried. Which in their place has left little mud puddles. It's almost like looking down into the geysers at Yellowstone. The plus side of all the rain is that I have gotten some really cute rain boots.
So what does one do with two labs when the rain won't go away? Here's our Rainy Day Routine: Momma throws ball down hall. Brodie goes and gets ball. Bradley takes ball from Brodie's mouth. Brodie takes ball from Bradley's mouth. Momma takes ball from Brodie's mouth & throws down hallway. Repeat 100 times. Eat dirt from momma's house plants, leaving it on the floor as well. Pull on fake ficus until it crashes to the floor. Kill and destroy every stuffed animal that has been purchased at garage sales. Run in and out of doggie door 50 times a day. Carry all our stuffed toys outside and forget to bring them back in, leaving them in the rain until they stink. Come inside and roll around on floor like a seizing lunatic while momma tries to dry me off (that one is Bradley) Rub on couch and carpet because it's more efficient than toweling off. Throw up all the dirt eaten while trying to get to the buried nuts the squirrels left. Trap cat in garage and proceed to torture. Come inside leaving muddy footprints all over the house. Watch momma vacuum for the third time that week. Whine over who gets to lay in momma's lap while she tries to watch the weather. Go into the front yard while momma checks the mail. That is a big treat! See neighbor down street and charge at them while barking and terrify them (Brodie) while momma yells "sorry". Lose front yard privileges. Find giant pine tree branches that have fallen into our backyard from the neighbors yard. Drag into house to eat the pine cones. Lose doggie door privileges. Beg for treats, take nap. Wake up. Go outside to expel pine cones. Spend one hour running around the yard like crazy dogs while momma stands under an umbrella waiting for us to poop. Don't poop. Come inside. Poop. (That one would be Bradley.) Sometimes I just lock them in their kennels and run away from home to hide for a while. Then sometimes you may see me standing in the front yard with a glazed expression singing "Somewhere Over The Rainbow."
Since the original post was written, the hole Bradley is digging continues to grow. He no longer poops in the house. And I've killed my third vacuum in 2 years. We are now accepting donations to our Vacuum Euthanasia Project.