Running back to the house as if we can beat the rain is a losing proposition. But we run anyway, sliding onto the front porch soaked and laughing.
The sky is greenish and murky. The cool drizzle picks up its pace, bursting into a sideways onslaught. One red and one cream shiba inu become frantic puffs of wet double coats, shaking and slinging water on the wall and across my glasses. The fight to dry their paws is actual exercise. Grabbing, pulling and twisting with a towel barely wrapped around a furry dervish.
Released from the grip of the towels they rocket across the living room, damp paws slapping at the brick floor before they jump, bank off the sofa, racing after each other.
Eyes crinkled and glinting with joy, mouth open to reveal white teeth as they pant.
15 November 2012
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