The rivers are rising and the horses are wet

It's raining again -- the third straight day.

The Portneuf River, which runs through our town, continues to rise from the Spring runoff, with less than a foot to go to the official flood stage.  In fact, it has already overspilled its banks in one or two of the city parks.

Rain, of course, breeds mud, and my kitchen floor is a lost cause. The sweeper never gets put away, nor does the mop. 

Only it looks like they have been left out just for show because the floor stays clean for only, oh, 15 seconds or so after I get done with it.

Watching out the kitchen window this gray morning, I could see a few of the horses standing disconsolately under the overhang of the loafing shed (a.k.a. The Barn, but really, it's a glorified loafing shed). I observed two of the sorrels, Rusty and Ritzy, move out from under the overhang and make their way slowly and gently into the alcove of the shed.

Only to come rushing out into the rain milliseconds later, ears pinned.

Stretch, barrel-racer non pareil, is in the alcove and doesn't want to share it with anyone else in the Equine Gang of Seven. The dominant male of the Gang, Stretch always has the last word. If he doesn't want to share the shelter, it ain't gonna be shared, folks. Even in the rain. Even with the mares whom he "protects."

There is no gallantry in the equine world.

May you stay dry today.

We won't.

- Catherine