Mondays are hard on my dogs. No we don’t send them to work on a factory in order to earn their keep (although from time to time we wonder if they could do anything to help pay for the superior dog food we give them, being the only brand that their fragile stomachs don’t complain about).
Mondays are difficult because after a couple of days of open-door-to-the-backyard-police we are back to the scheduled times. No we don’t think it is cruel, specially because we don’t own enough clothes to change 5 times a day because their muddy paws are all over our pants and also because Jack does not stay out there by himself, he needs human company and he makes it clear with some very loud barks.
COME PLAY BALL! NOW!
HOW ABOUT NOW!
COME! COME! COME!
Sometimes I swear I hear a “momyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy” at the end of those barks.
Sure enough he will bring the muddy ball (yes due to the enormous amount of rain all we have out there is tons of muddy mud, and of course one really large tree in many pieces, not small enough to move… but I digress, which happens often when I look at that tree, hummm not so much a tree now being in the horizontal position it is. He does bring the ball inside if I leave the door open and of course I had just sweep and mop the whole house and I am not very happy that no one can believe I did it not half an hour ago.
Last weekend He-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed got the gate to the tomato patch working, for what I am graciously thankful, even if our tomatoes are doing poorly I wanted to be able to pick the very few ripe enough now. He had a hard time to get the hinges in place, because everything is so wet, especially the wood posts.
He-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed also split some wood, I found that rather attractive, a very manly thing, but alas he does not let me stand close since one cannot predict the way those split pieces are going to fly. He was super nice to move the stack of wood close to the fence, instead of the edge of the deck, that was too precarious a place and Matisse already managed to dislodge a couple of pieces.
I did some weeding, halfheartedly I confess, and pick the last 6 blueberries my bushes produce; there are none to come, a very disappointing crop this year, you do the math, 3 bushes=1 cup of blueberries for the whole season. On the other hand I have so much tarragon, oregano and thyme I am looking for new recipes, and also getting slightly sick every time I open the fridge since it smell like way too much tarragon drying in there. When too much of a smell becomes a stink?
He-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed was in a mood to please me so he decided to give Matisse a bath, Jack had his the day before but we did not have time to do both. They are both blowing out their summer coats, I thought that happens only with winter coats but He-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed had enough hair in his hands to prove it. He brushed Matisse while he was still dry and came up with enough for a third dog. I do know giving the dogs a bath is hard work, but even if he will never admit it I think he likes it. He is always talking with the dogs, while they are in the bathtub; it is a very daddy like thing, and he comes up with the funniest ideas. This is why now we call Matisse by a new nickname: “Hey hon, don’t you think Matisse looks just like Pierce Brosnan?”
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