Lacey came home as she usually does, a bundle of energy. Something was different this time though. Instead of the scruffy pup that left this morning, a well groomed, fluffy puppy dashed in through the door. I automatically picked her up and began rubbing my face in her silky hair, loving every second of it.
She licked my face happily and clung onto my shoulder. Excitedly I placed her brand new collar around her neck. The black and white stripes stood out perfectly, while the pink highlighted them. I smiled with joy at the sight of her happy face, but I knew her intentions were not the best. She would automatically roll in the mud as soon as the door opened. Of course, I didn't want that to happen, but I needed to get some photographs done.
I placed a leash on her and guided her over to the hedge. I removed the restraint and told her to stay, it didn't work. Before I could grab my phone to grab a picture, she was on the other side of the garden rolling in the mud patch. I waved my arms frantically, begging her to stop. This resulted in a five minute chase around the garden. Suddenly she stopped running and sat by the hedge. I took the chance and got a few decent photos of her, but spent hours trying to edit the mud out of her fur. Such are the joys of owning a white dog who loves mud and even muddy streams, but that's for another story.
