When it rains a long, sustained rain like we had earlier this week, our little dry creek behind the house becomes a little babbling brook. Yesterday afternoon the dogs and I took a walk down our gravel road and I could hear our little brook cheerfully gurgling its way down the hill. Mojo could hear it, too, and he wasn't at all sure what he thought about it.
Just the day before he had peered down the deep (to him, anyway) chasm and thought about making his way down to the bottom. As he approached the same vantage point after the rain, he couldn't quite figure out what had happened. He cautiously peered over and then looked back to me as if to say, "That wasn't there yesterday!". He was quite bemused.
A little later on, we headed up into the woods behind the house to make our way home and he unexpectedly plunged into a puddle that was disguised by a mat of pine needles. Again he looked up at me in puzzlement. "That wasn't there yesterday!", he seemed to say again. It put him on guard and a few minutes later he sounded an alarmed bark when he spotted a trash can that had been blown out into the yard. He knows where things are supposed to be in his world and he doesn't like it at all if his environment gets shaken up a bit.
He's still upset by that strange dog that keeps watching him in the mirror.
What fun to watch a little boy grow up.