Rainy days are bad
It’s official, rainy days are bad. Forget anything I’ve ever said before about liking mud. Scrap the fact I like running through puddles. My priorities have changed and Mum won’t play ball with me when it’s wet. She says that the ball soaks up the water and then sprays it all over her when she throws it. Frankly, I can’t see the problem with that, but it meant she completely refused to even take my ball on our walk yesterday. I was appalled. I protested. Well, I moaned a bit for a minute or two, but then I went off to splash in the puddles and mud instead to make the best of a bad situation.
Wet feet
I did get the last laugh. Mum forgot to change out of her favourite walking boots. You would think having walking boots on would be a good thing, but the sole has split so she ended up with a wet foot. She is now trying to bring herself to send them to the walking boot graveyard in the sky, but she’s really struggling with that one.
Good days and bad days
Alfie had a really good day on Saturday. He managed all the stairs with no problems at all and no help from Mum. She got quite excited to see how much better he was. Sadly it was only just the one day and yesterday he needed help with steps all day and really couldn’t get his back end to cooperate. Mum says we just have to hope he has some more days like Saturday was. Mum is going to see if some physiotherapy might help him and has booked an appointment for next week. It’s good as the physio can come here so Alfie doesn’t even have to leave the house, so he won’t be stressed about it.
Have a great Monday
Love
Wilma