In which I am unwillingly held responsible for precipitation.
It was cold and rainy all day. Spurning his perfectly nice dry house, my donkey Jethro stood outside, motionless, hour after hour, radiating reproach. He would frequently twist his head around and look up toward the Big House to see if I was noticing his grumpy vigil. I'm sure he blames me for the weather.
I drove Zed downtown and when I got back, Jethro was in his shack. But when he saw the car pull up, he left his shack and reassumed his dripping protest. Busted!
I went out a few times in the rain even though I'm sick. I took him orange peels and carrot greens and celery stalks and oats. Not a word of thanks.
The hens and their rooster were drenched also. They trudged through the mud endlessly. They, too, have a nice dry house. What is with these animals?
My kids remind me I can't micromanage domestic livestock. If they want to sulk in the rain, it's their prerogative.