Sunday, 4 August 2013

Weathering the Storm

I'm a British dog so, naturally, I'm obsessed with the weather.

It's been really nice of late, but I'm not the only dog who's been feeling the heat.  I bumped into Henry from next door over the playing fields the other morning and we had a little frolic whilst our owners were chatting.  Henry wasn't as lively as usual, so whilst everyone's attention was diverted, he disappeared off into the woods and was gone for a little while.  When he reappeared, it was obvious to all that he'd found some rather fetid water to cool off in.  I'm not saying he was dirty but the black and brown patches on his coat were merging somewhat, blended with a fetching tinge of green.  It was  best to avoid standing down wind.  Anyway, when his owner noticed, Henry got called by an alternative name, quite similar to one of mine actually.  Looking on the bright side however, he did have the good manners to move well away from us all before he gave himself a shake, and he seemed a lot more sprightly once he'd cooled off.  Resourceful, I'd call it.

We got a cracking thunder storm that night.  'Them Indoors' had anticipated it and put my bed out in the lobby.  I like to think it was out of concern for my well-being but I suspect it's because they can't hear me so much when I'm out there.  I can't really distinguish thunder storms from fireworks; they're all bright flashes and loud bangs, so I treat them both the same and bark loudly, just in case.  The next morning there was a lovely rainbow that stretched across the entire landscape.  It looked like it ended down at the farm but I suspect it'd be no good searching for a pot of gold down there.  All you'd find is Midge the farm dog.......

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