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Archive for November 27th, 2013

We lucked out again, missing the worst of the latest storm. While the usual things flooded, the damaging winds did not appear.

Yarn Rascal, however, did not make out as well. At best, Yarn Rascal has weather issues. A quick trip outside to get the necessary things over and done with is not his style. He needs time to find “things” in the grass, put them in his mouth, then have me root around his mouth trying to remove them. He does this until my blood pressure reaches an unhealthy level.

In between finding “things” he spends time sniffing the air, which gets me sniffing the air to see what he’s smelling, but I never smell anything. Then he turns his little furry head, gives me the Rascal look and dashes in the direction of whatever he smelled. As fast as I can I lock the leash to stop him and begin tugging urging him in the opposite direction. One thing I know for sure about Yarn Rascal, he has a keen sense for trouble.

He likes to meander the yard, especially its darkest corners at night. All the while he’s holding off doing the things he is out there to do. He knows I won’t take him inside until he has completed what he needs to do. In short, it means I am his hostage and he, I am sure, knows this.

Yarn Rascal hates water and being wet. Last night it poured rain. In my mind, the two facts added up to a quick trip outside and back into the house. I should have known better.

I haven’t been able to find a rain coat to fit Yarn Rascal, so I am trying to make do with an over sized umbrella that likes to suddenly collapse without warning. I’ve just recently come to accept it’s an umbrella that doesn’t like the rain. Last night the yard flooded in many places. I hoisted the rain hating umbrella with my right arm, picked up Yarn Rascal in my left arm, slogged through ankle-deep water whereupon I discovered my boots were no longer waterproof, and deposited the little guy on the non flooded part of the yard. Before I could straighten up, the rain hating umbrella collapsed over my head temporarily blocking all vision. At the same time, I feel and hear the leash zipping out like the reel of a fishing pole that’s just landed the big one. Before I can get the umbrella off my head, my left arm yanked across my body–signalling the leash was at its maximum extension–and with one ungainly pirouette I’m on the sopping ground with the umbrella still closed over my head.

Once I got up and untangled myself, there was poor Yarn Rascal wet, bedraggled, and muddy at the end of his leash trying to lunge for the backdoor. I expect all the water just got to him and while he tried to race back to the house, I was still holding onto his leash. What a mess we both were. Yarn Rascal ended up in the bath. Not a great start for the storm season.

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