Rain saves lives.

Yesterday we had visitors. As lady after lady, aunt after aunt, in law after in law, cousin after cousin trooped in to meet the wife who had just prayed to Goddess Lakshmi (or Lady Luck as I sometimes call her), my dogs were going ballistic. Not being used to being kennelled for so long they experimented with various soulful renditions of operatic grandeur hoping that I would at least heed the plea of a Pavarotti or Bocelli.

I am certain that one of them, and I think it was the Labra'dog', even tried a combination of Diana Ross and Karen Carpenter. But my hands were tied. So they remained behind bars. My little Sallu and Sanju.

And then it was over. And they were let out on bail. After rushing around madly, pushing every semblance of order and cleanliness into the nozone of beyond, they rested. Their tongues elasticking. Their chests heaving. And they just looked peacefully at wet paw prints as they listened to the torrential.

And I heard the gate.

One last cousin. Running between raindrops. Leaped from Car to Gate in one easy movement. And froze as she took a hurried step in.

The Doberman froze too. Shocked that someone actually had the guts to be so casual. Or maybe he was wondering whether it was worth getting wet. Perhaps waiting for her to take a few more steps so he could attack in dry run mode.

I don’t know. She doesn’t know. And he won’t tell.

But that one second freeze gave her time to recover her wits. And pull back behind the security of the iron gate.

She is today like a mixed up James Bond Martini.

Shaken. And stirred. Out of her wits.