Looking Like Rain

When it rains, we stay close to home, run out in the yard for a minute or two, and run back to the protection of the house where we have the option of resting on a soft dog bed or looking out the glass doors in the kitchen and watching the slow growing of the grass in the backyard.

Yesterday it rained, and I was grateful, because Shane and I were still tired from the day before—a two-mile walk through the woods and around the lake followed by a bath, a quick blow dry and poofing of the fur, and that confusing ride to Babylon Animal Hospital to get our nails done. Whew! Once all that was done, we drove home, had our teeth brushed, and finally lay exhausted on our freshly washed sheets. Joan said, “You think you’re tired?” I’m not sure what she meant, but I don’t see how she could be tired, if that's what she was implying.

Today, it looked as though the afternoon might have turned into another washout, and I didn’t mind the idea of spending another day in repose. But, it wasn’t to be. Joan got home from work and announced that we’d be touring the grounds around Belmont once again, and off we went to the woods & lake. We didn’t take the long cut because it was a little muddy, but we had a good walk.

A man in the parking lot admired our beauty, said he sees us there every day, said we were nice and he was Irish. Then he got all poetic and said something about me looking like rain. "Looks like rain," he said, looking right into my eyes. Maybe he was seeing a sadness from long ago. Very insightful, I thought.

By the way, I lost maybe a pound and am down to 126—that’s actually six pounds lower than my all-time high of 132. But, who’s keeping score? Not me, for sure.

Best wishes, Juno

PS: Hi Rosemary. Don't forget to visit my blog once in a while. Joan says she'll miss you.