It’s a rainy day here in the Carolina foothills, and I have been out in the driveway washing the dog. What possesses a person to wash a dog in the rain? Well, I think “possesses” is the key word here, because having just finished washing a dog in the rain, I can’t really explain why I did it. He did kind of stink, and I’d noticed he was scratching a little, and I do have a horror of fleas in the house, but all that isn’t really sufficient to explain why I find myself suddenly wet to the knees and keeping company with two thoroughly soaked short people, not to mention a wet dog who now smells like Pine-Sol — the flea shampoo was marked “Mountain Fresh,” or something like that.
Can’t very well go to Wal-Mart looking like this, so let’s do some virtual shopping instead.
