The rain was the best part of the
Fourth of July for me. I'm not a hot-weather person. We had friends and family over for barbeque - got it all in before the storm - then stuffed ourselves with desert and watched the skies open up.
Great stuff...great day. Our Cocker Spaniel, Zoey, also had a good time. Zoey's world revolves around chasing a tennis ball and begging for food. She is a pro with the ball, making acrobatic catcheswith her mouth. She can run like the wind.
I think she'll bounce it off her nose straight up in the air before catching it.
I thought this was an accident when I saw it the first time. But it happens so often, I believe she has created her own game. She's made a routine toss and catch something more exciting.
The Fourth was a big day for the dog. Not only were there plenty of people willing to throw the ball, but she consumed some extra treats.
I cleaned the barbeque and removed some crunchy chunks of grease. Zoey found these and crunched them down like potato chips. But her big score came when we stepped outside to watch the fireworks.
My daughter Laurel had baked a excellent cake. She covered it with white frosting, then used blueberries and strawberries to make a pretty good replica of Old Glory.
The cake was a hit with everyone. We left the cake - about a third of it had been eaten - on the kitchen table while the fireworks were banging away.
When we returned, I noticed that part of - actually most of - the patriotic cake was missing.
Zoey had gobbled up the Stars and Stripes. Our nation's cake had been consumed by a dog. Our canine terrorist had unleashed frosting fury.
I figured she'd throw up in the house. It's kind
of common. Didn't happen. By 7 a.m. Thursday (the day after the Fourth), she was coaxing me to throw the ball.