It’s a dogs life.

And it’s raining here in Grimsby. A fact which didn’t escape the MET office who on the radio this morning said (and I quote):

“It’s been raining throughout the night, so this morning sees a very wet start…” Yes… well… I could have told them that! Puddles everywhere… not least in the kitchen which means the shower is once again leaking.

Still, I digress… I was going to talk about dogs. In particular OUR dog who informed me today by his look of total contempt that it is FAR too wet for him to even set foot outside the back door.

Oh yes. There he is, first thing in the morning skidding accross the laminate flooring doggy legs spinning, desperate to visit the garden, bark at anything of note and wee on the plants.

I just can’t open the door fast enough for him. The keys rattle in the lock – doggy whining, the bolts clatter back, a whimper of excitement, door bangs open (it get’s stiff in the wet, you have to pull it HARD) and the dog, rather than burst into the garden in his usual fit of vibrant morning energy just takes one look at the huge drops falling from the sky and then fixes me with those big contempting eyes as if it’s all my fault.

Dogs do not go out in the rain Jo. What were you thinking?

Well, I was thinking that he has a nice warm fur coat, freshly shed all over the carpet so that it is maximumly waterproof. But no. Regal dogs do not get their paws wet.

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