Blue Monday

Yesterday really was a lovely day. So cold and rainy, that even Jet the Australian Shepherd was all cuddly. Of course he grumbled and growled when I scooped him nose-end up to me and cradled him in my arms.. but then he went all floppy and nuzzled into my neck and my day was made.. I buried my nose in his fur and revelled in the glorious herb-scented, mushroomy, dogginess of him.. so soft and fluffy after all my brushing of the day before.. You can get lost in that dog, when he goes all soft like that…I love him to bits!

Especially as he was the only one brave enough to go out into the teeth of the storm on Friday night, with lightening flashing and thunder crashing all around us, and branches falling, as we slippy-slid the two hundred paces up to the pump house to turn the water on – and then again, 45 minutes later, to turn it off.. and  he is terrified of storms! I think that is what finally got the ‘flu into high gear, all the drenching.

It was very exciting though..! Unlike Jet, I love storms, the wilder, the better. I felt like a heroine in an old movie, fording the swollen river in the face of the wailing wind and icy sleet, bearer of  the vital message about the Boche raid for the brave men of the  Resistance, her faithful dog by her side…! A vivid imagination can get you through anything.

But today really is a bit of a Blue Monday. I was woken up by repeated calls on my cell which I ignored for as long as possible. It turned out to be someone called Klaas, a very sweet sounding man under any other circumstances.

“Hello? This is Klaas.. I’m at your gate?”

“Erm.. hi there Klaas…” (frantic brainscan for any forgotten appointments with Klaas, followed by second even more frantic brainscan for a Klaas, any Klaas)

“I lost my white Altdorf (?) German Shepherd..?”

“Oh – (stifling yawn and trying to focus eyes) sorry to hear that..”

“I heard it was at your house..?”

“Oh..!! (light dawns) Yes! Of course…!" (I had broadcast a message about a lost
 Pekinese on Saturday)
" But, … erm.. that was actually a Pekinese..?”

“Oh…” says Klaas, crestfallen. Then, brightening, “Can I see it?” (Just in case I had somehow mistaken a Pekinese for his white German shepherd. As can so easily happen....)

 “Um..the thing is, it isn't here. Oh dear…and you came down this awful road for nothing..? Sorry about that..! Frans de Bruyn knows where it is”

“Oh! Alright! Thanks, I’ll go and ask him. Bye..!”

The phone rings again.

“Hullo..?” I mumble.

“This is Klaas..”

“Oh. Hi Klaas..?” (can’t help sniggering at how this sounds, even in my sleepy state)

“Where do I find Frans de Bruyn?”

I closed my eyes again, wondering if I could recapture my unfinished dream and pondering the ways of desperate dog owners. In the distance I could hear the zero-to-three-thousand soprano whine of an engine revving over wheels that were spinning free and gripless in the quagmire outside the gate. I decided not to go up. My ‘flu wouldn’t handle it well and what could I do anyway? Best I didn’t see the ruins my road was being reduced to…I had thought that by now everyone in the valley knew better than to drive down my road after rain. And that had been some storm..!

Drifting… drifting.. back to my dream.. my arm is so cold.. shivering.. cold… and wet.. Wet? WET. Why is my arm wet..? Wide awake now! Whip blanket off, mystery is revealed in the form of Bubba, who is sopping wet, wide-eyed and shivering under the blanket, like an orphan seal beached on a foreign shore after a storm. ALL the dogs were wet. Their wet had just not penetrated yet.. I got up, sneezed, fetched a towel, sneezed, and started dying seven dripping dogs…Clearly this was going to be a long day..