Nope. Sometimes Words Are Better

I got up industrious yesterday and cleaned out my closet. It felt like that was enough hard work for the day, but Bugsy had other ideas. We've had freezing weather for a long time for Texas, and it was predicted again this weekend after a brief respite. However, we've had rain but not the ice and stuff. What was ice is now red clay mud. Including at the fence, where Bugsy has been tunneling. The air last night was still cold enough bathing him with the hose was not appealing. Maybe Bugsy deserved it, but I didn't! So we tried the shower. The clay came close to tingeing the white shower tiles, but I got it washed off after we stood in the shower and I scrubbed and scrubbed and squeezed out his paws, badly in need of grooming. We'd planned to do it before the cold, but hated to put him outside recently shorn. I used a stack of old towels and dried him as well as we could, then put him in the cage where he and Gus sleep. We left him there an hour or so, but time came to get ready for bed, and I put him outside to see to business. When I called he didn't come. When we went to find him, he had gotten himself almost as dirty again. Mike thinks he was dirtier, and perhaps his face was, but it wasn't solid on his chest like the first time. The picture is the second time before the second bath. This morning when I let them out, I grabbed a lawn chair and raced him to the fence, blocking the escape route. So far he hasn't found another ideal place to tunnel and remains in relatively good graces. Come to think, though, he's been outside and quiet for a long time....
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