With a basset beneath my feet

As I write this first post, my basset hound, Zeke, is at my feet wagging his tail, not knowing that he is about to become immortalized in my blog. It's been a tough day for him so far. Every time he's gone outside he gets his big bassett paws wet because of the much needed rain that's falling. When he comes back inside the house, he's quarantined until his paws dry off. And, like many of us, he wants to be where he's not: in/out, out/in. Consequently, he's had a number of "time-outs" today. I'm just grateful not to find myself similarly quarantined for my vacillations.