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"Is it ever going to stop raining?
It’s been raining for six days now, non stop," Cockles said. He pulled his
head inside through the doggie door. Raindrops ran down his face to the
floor.
"Shut that flap. I’m freezing and
you’re letting the rain in," Mussels griped. "It is springtime. My guess
is it’s going to rain for another few days. I’m sure getting tired of
sitting day after day in this back room."
"I am too. We could go outside, you
know. I’m needing some exercise. We could do something fun in the rain.
What do you say?" Cockles asked.
"In the rain? Are you mad? What
could we do?" Mussels wondered.
"We’ll think of something. Now,
where’s my ball?" Cockles looked behind the stacks of newspapers, pile of
wood and empty milk bottles. "Oh, lovely. Here it is," he said, picking it
up with his mouth. "Let’s go," he mumbled and climbed out through the
doggie door. Being a Dachshund, his body was long and skinny and very
awkward at climbing out of doggie doors. "Come on," he shouted to Mussels.
Mussels stuck his head outside.
"It’s pouring! I’m not so sure if this is a good idea," he hesitated.
Cockles stood in the rain. "I don’t
want to stand out here all day waiting for you. Come on. It’s not too cold
and actually the rain feels sort of nice."
Mussels climbed out and stood next
to Cockles. The two dogs just sat there. "Well?"
"Well what?" Cockles asked.
"Well, what are we going to do now?"
Mussels wondered.
Cockles looked around. It was hard
to see with all the rain coming down. "I’ve got it. Let’s slide down the
hill. It’s nice and muddy and probably very slippery. We could have fun
doing that."
"Good idea. I’ll race you to the
top," Mussels said. He started to run. Being a mutt, he had longer legs
and could run much quicker. "Hurry up, Cockles," he shouted from the top.
Cockles short little legs ran up the
steep hill. At the top, he dropped his ball. Immediately it rolled down
the hill. Cockles sat and watched it. The blue ball splashed in a puddle
at the bottom. "I’ll get it later." He looked around. "Wow, I can hardly
see a thing. Look how low the clouds are!"
"It’s coming down all right.
Speaking of down, who’s going to go first?" Mussels asked.
"I’ll go first," Cockles said. He
walked a few steps back and then ran as fast as he could. He jumped over
the top of the hill and began to slide down in the mud. "Wheeeeeeee," he
called out. "This is fun." He slipped and slid all the way to the bottom.
He landed with a huge splash in a puddle of rainwater. "That was fun!" he
shouted.
"My turn. Watch out below!" Mussels
walked back a bit and then ran as fast as he could. He jumped and then
landed on his bottom. He began to slide down the hill. Mud flew up into
his face and all over his ears and fur. Instead of being a white dog with
brown patches, he was now a dark brown muddy dog! "Wheeeeeeeee! This is
fun!" He landed with a splash right next to Cockles. Water went flying
everywhere, soaking Cockles even more.
"Care to try it again?" Cockles
asked.
"Need you ask, hee hee," Mussels
replied.
The dogs ran up the hill and slid
down over and over again until they were too tired to walk up it again.
"Let’s go home," Mussels suggested, shaking his fur off.
"Where’s my ball?" Cockles wondered.
He searched each puddle, having to stick his nose in to feel for it.
"There you are. Gotcha," he said, grabbing the ball in his mouth.
The two dogs ran home as fast as
they could. The wind was beginning to be a bit chilly on their wet bodies.
They were just about to go inside through the doggie flap when they heard,
"Wait just one minute." The dogs turned around. It was Tom Maxwell. "You
dogs aren’t going into the house all covered with mud. What have you been
doing? Rolling in it?" Cockles and Mussels looked up at him with innocent
eyes. "Don’t be giving me those big puppy dog eyes. The two of you have
been up to mischief, haven’t you?" The dogs lowered their heads. "Stay
right there. I’ll be right back," Tom said and walked away.
Cockles and Mussels didn’t move.
"What does he want? What’s he going to do with us?" Mussels worried. Just
then, Tom came around the back of the house carrying a hose. "Och, no.
He’s going to squirt us. We’ll freeze."
"Sorry to do this to you, lads, but
you can’t go into the house all covered with mud. Now hold still and I’ll
hurry," Tom said. He sprayed icy cold hose water all over them. Mud ran
off their fur onto the grass. "Look at the mud. You’ve brought the whole
hillside with you." He sprayed until there wasn’t a drop of mud left on
them. The two dogs cowered against the house. "Go inside, lads. I’m sorry
I had to do that. Maybe next time you’ll learn not to play in the mud."
Cockles and Mussels went inside.
They crawled into their baskets and curled up into a ball, shivering the
whole time. "I am never going out in the rain again. I’m freezing,"
Cockles said with chattering teeth. "It’s not warm in here either."
Just then the door opened that led
from the back room, where the dogs were, to the inside of the house, where
Tom stayed. "Come on, lads. Come in here where it’s warm. It’s a cold
evening and you’re soaking wet. Stay off the couch though."
The dogs got up and ran under Tom’s
legs into the warm house. "I hope the fire’s on," Mussels said, running
into the living room. "Och, good. It is." Cockles and Mussels curled up in
front of the roaring fire. "It feels mighty good now."
Cockles didn’t say a word. He fell
right to sleep, enjoying the feel of the flickering flames on his damp
reddish-brown fur.
"Lads, wake up. I’ve got a wee treat
for you," Tom said, nudging them with his foot. "Come into the kitchen."
The dogs stood up and stretched and then went to see what the treat was.
"It’s steak and kidney pie. I had some leftover after my supper. It’s for
you, lads. Dig in," Tom told them. Cockles and Mussels gobbled the food
down. It was warm and it was delicious. "You can stay in the house
tonight, if you’re good. When you’re finished, come back to the fire."
Cockles and Mussels ate every drop
and then trotted into the living room. "Maybe this isn’t such a bad day
after all," Cockles laughed, warming his paws by the heat of the fire.
"It’s not so bad," Mussels added,
listening to the rain beating down on the windowpanes. "Not so bad." |
