If I had done 45 years ago what I did today, my mother would have given me a walloping and grounded me for weeks.
Our rainy season finally arrived with a drenching, glorious rain. It poured all night, and poured all morning ... and tapered off to a gentle drizzle in the afternoon. Bernie did not have to work, as the plant is doing "planned non-production Fridays" this month; before we even had our lunch we were of one mind -- that was, to take the dogs for a walk in the rain.
The last time we did that, it was cold, and when we returned from the walk, we just dried the damp beasts off and all was fine.
Today the temperature was 56 degrees, if not more; I never did zip up my jacket over my t-shirt. We set off for Ripon's wonderful bike trail in the drizzle.
Along the trail there is a large field in which grow tumbleweeds, some phlox, grasses, and various other weeds. Since we were last there, the city had brought in a tractor and disked much of the weed life under.
Sebastian's sensibilities were inflamed by the loose dirt, and he galloped madly through the mud, churning up so much of it his underbelly and rear were caked with crud. Howie was not that interested in loose dirt, being of a more discerning nature. Howie's weakness is ... puddles of water. He found more than a few of them, and lay down in them to cool his belly, stretching out to maximize the mudpack experience.
Once the dogs realized that we were not angry with them for their peccadillos, they proceeded to find and splash through and roll in every mud puddle in the field they could find.
My god, they were filthy by the time we headed home.
I shouted in the door to John. "We got your dog really disgustingly dirty!"
He's so patient. "I need to take a shower anyway, send him in." (Sebastian loves to shower with his Daddy.)
Howie, with his longer, thicker hair, had to settle for a bath in the driveway, then a protracted combing and brushing in front of the fire.
So, had I done this with my dog when I was a kid, Mom would have gone berserk on me. But since Bernie and I are senior citizens ... heh -- we can be bad kids whenever we want.