The rain and wind made it hard to sleep. Lucky. Because I suddenly heard the sound of a dog running down the stairs. I leapt out of bed and ran downstairs myself. [Nothing like a little foreboding to make one nimble.] Georgia was standing in the kitchen. I opened the back door. She looked at the rain, at me, made a mewling sound and walked back into the house towards the front door. Don't do this to me, girl! I yelled at her in my head. She came back, took a few tentative steps outside, sniffed the wet air, blinked at the rain, skipped gingerly up the steps to the top, walked anxiously round the yard a few times, then disappeared from view behind the orange murraya bushes. A fetid smell wafted down towards me, followed by a dog in a mad hurry to get away from it all. Oh Murphy. Nothing like green puddles at 4a.m. to make an already memorable night unforgettable. Only 3 more puddles after that. And 2 more on her walk.
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Wordless Wednesday 6/29 — Sweet Tart
19 hours ago