Autumn Days

Wet and muddy. "Wash the dog" is what she says every morning after our walk, and I respond by trotting behind the house, where the garden hose is, to be washed. Then I get rubbed with my big, brown towel, which I love. It has rained a lot and the river has flooded, and a heap of new sticks have been washed ashore. I pick one up every day and carry home. The bigger, the better.