Ray was standing in front of me, head down, whining. This is not an uncommon occurrence for Mr. Whiny so I wasn't too concerned but after half an hour or so, I started to get slightly perturbed.
"Would you please be quiet," I requested of the mopey hound.
The whining intensified.
Usually the cause of the whining is walk or food related, but it was the wrong time of the day for either one of those things, so I was a bit mystified.
Ray walked a step or two away and, with head still lowered morosely, whined some more.
"Quiet," I said again.
Ray upped the noise quotient and went to stand in front of Harvey's chair, the one with the monkey fur cushion.
"Quiet," I said again futilely.
I watched, surprised, as the dog climbed awkwardly onto the chair and settled into a miserable little ball. He sighed again
A lightbulb went off over my head.
It was washday. Ray's sheep-fleece throw was in the washing machine. He had a least another hour to wait.
I thought of Linus.