Of all times....

  Mr. PJ, the old dog that has come to live with us, has been a perfect jewel the entire time I have been ill.  I think he understands that I am under the weather and has not wanted to aggravate me in any way.  I can open the door and let him go do his business far down the hillside without worry.  He has not tried to leave the Bayou.  Actually, that would be nigh on impossible with his aging legs and arthritis anyway because of the sheer distance but it is a relief that he has not ventured far off his given track....until today.  Today...today, of all days, he decided to raid the compost pile which is far down behind the house near the canebrake in the opposite direction of his usual roaming spots. 

  While this would have been aggravating enough, he would not return when called.  Ugh!  This meant that I had to don a jacket and head out to retrieve the dog.  Still not bad except for the fact that there was pea-soup thick fog and a fine mist falling.  Still...not the end of the world...except that I have the flu.  Added together, the events deemed troublesome enough to rile me a bit.  As I traipsed through the drizzle to fetch the dog, I kept calling.  He was not even paying one iota of attention to my yells.  As I rounded the corner of the shed and he was in view, he darted under the small deck on the back of the storeroom.  Now what??  It was all I could do to control the temper that was welling up inside of me.  Two things....one...he knows the compost pile is off limits.  Has been ever since he first started to visit the Bayou some ten years ago.  Second....he should know that going under decks, sheds and the house are a no-no.  He has been reprimanded enough to know better.  So, his infractions kept piling up.  

  After I finally persuaded the runaway dog to reenter the Little Bayou House, a foul odor hit me.  Ugh.  Yep, he reeked to High Heaven!  Obviously, he had not gone for the fresh orange peels, mushy banana or anything recent.  HE had to wallow in something that had been there for a while!  By this time, I did not even have the energy to fight him into the tub. The bath would have to wait for another day.  Darling Daughter had given me a bottle of "doggy perfume" back when Ms. Ez was with us so that came into play.  A few spritzes later and I could breathe.  I looked at the old dog and his tail started thumping on the floor.  Big, sad, puppy dog eyes glistened up at me as if to apologize for his misdeeds.  Oh, geez, Pup! You were grounded...were...ok, I still love you.  Now to get the wet clothes off, brew a mug of herb tea and try to stop the shakes.  Of all the times in the world for you to choose to go on an escapade, this was probably the worst.