Every dog for himself

Rain: coming at every angle between the vertical and the horizontal; winds: anabatic, katabatic, acrobatic; puddles: have become pools have become lakes....

Nevertheless we went for our daily walk wade, down into the valley where the river was rushing like a hypertensive aorta, cows' hoofprints had turned into bowls of oxtail soup and the mud was welly-high for me, belly-high for a Jack Russell. In fact it resembled the battlefield of the Somme, minus the bodies.There was no way I could assist Casey as it was hard enough for me to negotiate the swamp. Back home I had to sluice him down under the outside tap.

For fans of Fred: It's that cat again!
I was cleaning inside the fridge (itself a sign of advanced cabin fever) and put the contents on the table while I did so. Which one did he chose to knock down? The cream.