This morning as I was out making sure Sprocket and Doozer did all that stuff that dogs are supposed to do outside, I chatted with our next-door neighbour. She is enamoured of these two boys. She, too, has a Shih-tzu, a female. As soon as she found out that ours were both males, she said “Ooooh! We can breed Sandy with them!”. My immediate thought was “WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? THEY ARE BABIES! I’m not ready to be a dog grandmother!”. Plus we are planning on getting these guys neutered as soon as the vet will do it. Anyway, this morning we were just chatting about this and that. Of course, in all these neighbourly chats, the weather has got to come up. She grumbled about the rain, saying she hated he rain and wished it would just not rain for the rest of the summer.
I made noises indicating I agreed with her, but my mind was harkening back to yesterday afternoon. I was out, once again, with the boys. Doozer’s favourite area of the yard is anywhere that has bushes or plants taller than he is. I take advantage of the time spent outside by ridding the vegetable garden both of weeds and of small dogs, and yesterday I noticed that things were getting a little dry in my planters. “Ugh,” I said. “I’m going to have to water these”.
Now, I don’t begrudge my plants the water. And I don’t mind the actual watering. What I mind is
a) dragging the hose from the front of the house to the backyard, and running back and forth from the back to the front to the back making sure the hose isn’t tangled or caught on something or kinked so that the water doesn’t get through, and
b) getting the super-long hose wound back up and hung on the front of the house, because there’s just too much hose for the hose-hanging thing and it always falls off and I get frustrated and then leave it on the ground where it gets tangled up and the next time I need it I’m cussin’ at it again.
And so, I said to Sprocket, who was busily terrorizing my turnip greens while his brother mounted a stealth attack on a tomato plant (I planted no tomatoes in the garden itself this year, only in planters which are on the patio. Why is it then that seven or eight tomato plants have popped up all over the garden amongst the things I actually did plant? Leftovers from years past, I suppose), “I hope it rains. Then I won’t have to water anything.”
So yes, neighbour-who-wishes-to-broker-the-deflowering-of-my-baby-boys, the rain that you hate? I brought it down upon us! It was me, all me! AND I’M NOT SORRY! And I hope it rains all day today! And even tomorrow! Which it will, according to the weather forecast! And your little trollop, Sandy, will have NOTHING TO DO with my puppies, do you hear me? NOTHING!
Ahem.
By the way, yesterday we had beets and beet greens with our supper. Aside from the radishes, it was our first harvest of the season. Hooray for beets!



