Fadedwords

I realize that yesterday was Merlin Monday.  Events in the evening yesterday warrant discussion… so just call this Terrible Tuesday.

From a young age, Merlin has been fascinated with mud.  It started about a week after his first bath; I had let him outside at our house in Plymouth, and when I came outside to check on him he was up to his armpits in mud.

He was so very pleased with himself, and no matter how many times I covered up any muddy spots in the yard he would find them again and immediately dig them up.  Cleaning him up was a nightmare; he hated to be toweled dry or wiped off and would run when he saw a towel. 

His fascination carried over to sand.  When we went to the beach he wanted nothing more than to dig giant holes in the beach.  This was preferable to mud, because it wasn’t as messy.  Not to mention, he looked damn cute with sand all over his face.

Of course, since moving up here there have been all kinds of fun days.  We have very sandy soil in our back yard, so occasionally Merlin decides that digging a giant hole is the best idea in the world.  This isn’t too serious, and it’s always fun when he forgets where they are and face plants in an attempt to race across the yard.

The real problem is when it rains.  We haven’t had too much rain in the past year; most people have heard about the drought.  It’s been pretty scary… our neighbor’s well ran dry and we worried about ours too.  This spring has been lovely though, with plenty of rain showers. 

Merlin loves playing in the rain.  Usually he just goes out and runs around and enjoys the freeing feeling of raindrops on his nose.  Occasionally, however, I will look up from whatever I’m doing and find that my dog has mud up to his armpits.  I’ll find muddy footprints all over my kitchen, across my living room carpet, and a giant mud stain in front of the living room door where he lay down to rest after his extracurricular activities. 

Then I have to wrestle with him to get his feet clean, which typically involves him growling at me and trying to take the towel away from me and run outdoors.  After he is clean I have to mop the floor, vacuum the living room, and make sure no mud got on the couch.

There are no photos of all this fun, because I’m too busy chasing around an 82lb muddy dog with a towel while he growls and tries to stay away. 

Maybe when he gets fixed he won’t be such a lunatic.