These are the chronicles of two Shetland Sheepdogs and their adventures in rally-o, obedience, flyball, agility, tracking and therapy dog work.
Also including information on raw feeding, canine epilepsy, positive training, and lots and lots of Sheltie hair!

Saturday, May 29, 2010

Okay! Okay already!

It's wet. We get it.

Good on the rain. But enough is enough! It's been raining nearly constantly for weeks now. And no, that is not an exaggeration. My driveway has yet again been converted into an outdoor swimming pool, so that I have to back into the driveway to ensure that all doors of my vehicle have decent access to relatively puddle-less surfaces.

This is part of the reason that I haven't been posting for the past while. Really haven't been doing much of anything worth writing about! The regular therapy dog visits, this time toting along a towel to dry off fluffy puppies after our mad dash from the car to the building. A lot of sitting around and being depressed because of the grey weather.

Don't get me wrong, I love rain. Give me a good booming thunderstorm and I am a happy happy girl! But this is quite enough of the downpour. I believe the radio informed me the other day that this is the wettest spring that Saskatoon has seen ... ever. Or, at least since people began keeping track of these things. I'm sure things were pretty soggy after the glaciers melted after the last ice age, but really, I wasn't around then and didn't have $100 worth of bedding plants in the ground that would REALLY appreciate a good sunny day or two!

Last week's 52 Weeks for Dogs photo op was dampened (*pun!*) by the rain.

This week saw a similar situation.

The boys are both getting very antsy with this rain business. They don't mind thunderstorms, neither are sound-phobic, but they are suffering from some serious cabin fever. We've been working on scent games and some new tricks to keep furry little brains busy, but it just isn't the same as their regular walks or runs in the park. The dullness of it all has turned Romeo into a pouty lazy bones. He just flops from one doggy bed to the next, not sleeping, just laying there in his own depression. Gio, on the other hand, is taking the opposite route. He's the gurfy pacer, wandering from room to room puffing and sighing, or as he is doing right now, standing at my feet and staring up at me from under the computer desk, hoping beyond hope that I will somehow make this rain stop so that he can get outside again.

Mr. Weather Man says that it is supposed to break next week. Let's hope, for the sake of all our sanity, that this is true.

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