A Rainy Day with Picasso and Ebony

Grandma Stella recalls a rainy day when her beloved pups, Picasso and Ebony, were determined to play outside despite the rain, leading to a humorous adventure of misunderstandings and wet fur.

I woke up to the sound of the rain gently pattering outside my window. I seemed to be floating on a cloud, drifting up from a deep slumber. Or was I slowly rising from the depths of the sea. Either way, I seemed to gently sway as I arrived into a state of wakefulness. I opened my eyes. The sun had not yet risen. The room was in semidarkness. Picasso was snoring contentedly, curled up on my poor worn out armchair. I wiggled my foot slightly. Yes, Ebony was definitely snuggled against it. I sighed a sigh of contentment. My pups, my companions were there near me. I was not alone. I got up and went down to get a cup of tea.

When I came back, Picasso politely rose from the seat and offered it to me. As I sank gratefully into the seat, Picasso and Ebony snuggled up by my feet and went back to sleep. I started reading, but I too fell asleep. The grey skies and the whispering rain offered a soothing lullaby we could not resist.

Later I woke up to Ebony gently nudging me. “It’s late, we would like to go play outside in the garden,” she seemed to say. Picasso stood besides her, looking at me patiently. I yawned lazily. The rain was still coming down. They would not like to be out. I told that, but they insisted they wanted to go into the garden. They did not comprehend the word ‘rain’. It was not often I used the word when I spoke to them. “So be it. You will soon understand,” I said as I trudged down the stairs. They followed me eagerly. I opened the door and off they went, prancing about and barking joyously. Round and round they ran until they realized that the rain was still coming down and they were getting wet!

In the meantime, I hurried upstairs to dress. As soon as I had done so, they began to loudly demand to be let in. Once more I clambered down. I opened the door. They stood by the door, looking at me with accusing eyes. “I told you so,” I answered. I held the door open for them. “What do you want from me!” I said crossly. We spent the rest of the morning on the porch, but that did not stop them from all day demanding that we go back and forth to the front door to check if the rain had stopped. Finally, it did stop. By then I was exhausted. It is tough being their doorman. That night, as I got into bed, I felt myself sinking deeply into a deep dreamless sleep. What comfort, what bliss it was to close my eyes and drift away to dreamland…