Smelling the Rain

Just returned from walking my dogs along a swollen creek. Christmas came early for my Lab. Ever try smiling while you swim? He can. He kicks with his back legs while splashing his front paws, like a child in a bathtub.
All the debris that is rushing by has been dead for months. Waiting. It's like fall soup. Add a little water and the smell of life, even rot, comes alive. The mud under my boots reeks of nourishment; the foliage smells sweet. Back in the garage the ritual of the towels begin. First the Lab, because I can. Rough rubbing on his face as he gleefully pivots his head to make sure I get it all. Then his back, then his belly. All the while "wet dog" smell is filling the garage. And I know why he was smiling.