Though the weather forecast called for a chance of showers today, Crabby insisted that wouldn’t be the case.
The usual after dinner ritual is such that as each group finishes eating, they are escorted outside. This evening they were reluctant to do so. Though Crabby said it wouldn’t rain, The Horde was pretty sure they saw rain falling from the sky. Every dog knows, even dogs who love to splash in rancid desert water holes, rain has the ability to completely dissolve any member of the species Canis familiaris. Once dissolved, said dog will be blinked out of existence, never to return.
When the last group was
punted out the door escorted outside, I set about the after dinner ritual of washing dog bowls and setting tomorrow’s food to thaw. I wasn’t concerned about The Horde because it wasn’t raining.
I wish I had the camera with me when I first went to the back door, or that when I did take the camera I had the memory card installed, because if I did, you would have seen a photo of 14 of the most pathetic dogs you have ever seen. Instead, since I went to the door twice before actually being able to take the photo, 5 braved Satan’s Tears and made a dash for the back door. Pablo was in the process of making run for it, and the rest went from vestiges of the neglected to faces of hope.
Still, I think you can get the gist. Where Crabby is adamant that it isn’t raining, The Beasts of Run A Muck Ranch clearly disagree.