White Dog blew air through her cheeks in disgust."Why does it rain EVERY Sunday when the White Dog Army is supposed to do something fun?" she moaned. It was grey and gloomy and raining constantly and hard enough to make outdoor adventures an impossible dream...and dog darn it today was the Marigold Parade to celebrate Dia de los Muertes with all of its skeletons and fun! (In our area in the native culture, white dogs are considered spirit animals and so at the celebration the WDA always gets extra respect, attention, and treats).
But it was too wet. Taiko's bad elbow ached from the humidity; he was limping. Steve had broken his littlest toe during the night on Zsofia's kennel and though bandaged and protected, was not inclined to want to run or stand much. And Puff...
Puff who was doing so well at the beginning of the weekend took a turn for the worse. We could not keep her nasal passages open, she was miserable, barely ate, and was quite content to sleep in her oxygen kennel. Our Little Old Lady was now starting to scare us since she was on TWO antibiotics and could not seem to get and stay over the hump of recovering.
It was a sad, somber day filled with lots of sighing and frustrated attempts to keep occupied doing indoor things. In the end, the WDA gave up and gave themselves over to napping...only to wake at 4:30pm and find it dark (nobody understood the time change thing and why our day was suddenly out of whack)...just one more torment in a day of disappointment.
And the final insult of fate, at least according to Zsofia (who swore she would have shared), was getting caught with Steve's dinner pork chop in her mouth BEFORE she even had the chance to take one bite!