The sun shines brightly from a blue sky this morning. Just a few wisps of high-altitude clouds mar what would otherwise be a perfectly clear day. It's supposed to reach 60 degrees (Fahrenheit) by this afternoon here in southeastern Pennsylvania. :o)
Baxer, Elsie, and Ridge know it, too. They've begun shedding; they're lifting their snouts to sniff the air; they're alerting to flocks of geese flying overhead; and they're rammier than usual. They want to play and train and work. They seem to know that extended outdoor time is coming.
I don't know how, but they do. They sense that warmer weather is almost here, that long days of outdoor adventures await them. They sense that soon they'll be free to roam the backyard at leisure, without "mom's" concern that it might be too cold. Spring is just two weeks away.
Ah. But with spring comes mud. Ugh. And now that Elsie can open the back door at will, mud becomes a problem.
Well, sort of. It's only a problem if I view it that way. Heck, what's a little mud anyway? I can throw a few towels by the back door and on the family room's area rugs, let the dogs track in and out as they need to, and allow them to have their grand freedom. It's been a long winter.
I still have to work, though, but they can play. And when I need a break, I'll play with them.
I guess it's time to break out the towels. I hear the mud calling three names.
'Til next time,
Joan
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