I am not talking to BeAnne.
Yesterday, she stunk so badly while she sat under my desk in her bed, that I could bear it no more. I took her upstairs and bathed her, much to her disgust. But it had to be done and then she was fragrant and beautiful again. Afterwards, I cleaned the bathroom from top to bottom.
This morning, Flossie and I were up at first light to feed the horses and sheep. The wind was gaining speed and the forecast was grim, so we started two hours earlier than usual to be able to do our chores without being blown over or soaked to the skin.
We finished just as it began to rain heavily and guess who we met coming up the hill as went into the house….. a mud monster or perhaps a small Patterdale terrier who had spent her morning digging up baby bunnies down by the stream. She was clarted in mud from head to toe. My heart sank. Her chin had dangles of brown squelch.
I dragged her back upstairs to the bathroom and back into the bath she went. The mud was of the type that was half concrete and half superglue – solid and hard. A good fight later and BeAnne, for the second time, in less than 24 hours was clean. Again, afterwards, I cleaned the bathroom from top to bottom as the mud had been transferred to every wall, towel and now myself.
BeAnne is not talking to me and, as I type, is sulking under my desk.
Loki is almost a good boy, though he did tumble Wu the other day.
Wu didn’t care much but has been bitch-slapping Loki in revenge when he walks past.
I have banned BeAnne from going outside unsupervised for the foreseeable future.