Puddle Puppy

I woke up to overcast skies and rain. We need it, we are still technically in a drought, but it makes me dreary anyway. I fidgeted, I wandered the house, I read a book cover to cover and then fidgeted some more. I hand tacked lace onto the baby blanket for Emma (still don’t have my machine) just for something to do; technically it’s completely unneccessary since I’ll sew it into the blanket when I get my machine back, but it holds the lace in line better than pins so it might be kinda worth the effort. As I was putzing on the computer, actually, while writing the below post, I heard Remus give his “happy” bark.
 It’s the bark he uses when he’s playing or wants us to play with him. It’s usually directed at his toys as if to encourage them to fight back when he paws at them. I got up and snuck to the window by the door to see all 100lbs of puppy head dive into a mud puddle.
These mud puddles are hand crafted by Remus himself as he continues to excavate our front lawn in search of ancient artifacts. Or gold. Or bugs. Or…more dirt. One of the largest holes, convieniently placed by the corner juncture of sidewalk with driveway, was the object of Remus’s happy bark as he continually pawed and splashed his way through the muck. He’d rear up on his hind legs and literally face plant into the muddy water, then jump back and paw at it like he could get the water to behave. He bit at it, sniffed at it, jumped and twirled around it, and occasionally barked at it. At first I was horrified. I smacked the door with my open hand and his dripping face jerked up, ears perched on his head, and he launched himself in two quick bounds from puddle to porch. (bed confinement, HA!) I had no intention of letting the mud and rain soaked puppy inside, I just wanted him not to get any dirtier. He waited at the door for approximately 3 seconds, his head turning from door back to puddle back to door, a classic sign of reluctant indecision. He leaped off the porch and head dived back into the puddle. I repeated the door smack, he came back on the porch, then back to the puddle. I smacked the door every time he came close to the puddle. He tried another puddle, I smacked the door again. After the tenth time on the porch, he slowly padded down the ramp to the yard and settled himself forlornly on his haunches in the soggy grass. He laid down, oblivious to the rain, and watched our driveway with boredom. Poor puppy.
I finished writing, I got up and was antsy some more, took a shower, and then I heard a strangled sounding happy bark. Resigned, I watched from the window as Remus again face planted into the puddle. I couldn’t help it, I started to laugh. He was having just too much darn fun, even if he was ruining my yard-and his chances of getting inside out of the rain.
I let him play for a few more minutes, I attempted to sneak out and get a picture but every time I tried to open the door he’d leap on to the porch wanting to come inside. So I attempted a recreation with Paint. It at least gives the idea, but I wish I could’ve got a few snapshots of him in action. Our yard looks like it’s been shelled.
He was whining something fiercely on the porch (he doesn’t like it when I’m inside and he’s not) so I finally relented and let him in…on a leash…down the towel laid hallway to protect the carpet….and directly into the bath tub. He’s now clean and relatively happy munching a toy in his crate. I walked him outside to pee on the leash, I wasn’t letting him jump back into the puddle, and he’s back inside, fluffy and un-muddy.

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