An indecisive Weimaraner in the country...

Ah, yes. The diversion of life in the country. Fresh air, clear skies, birds chirping, and those sort of things. And too, there's work to be done... planting fruit trees & shrubs & floweres to take advantage of the spring-like weather. But, no such luck with The Dog in attendance...
This is The Dog, who BAR-RUFFED to be let inside, when it got too cold outside. The wind had kicked up & clouds had appeared. Some disgruntled dog-stuff about not having the pleasure of sun-bathing on a sun-warmed semi-grassy spot, while I built up a sweat digging into rocky soil.

This is also The Dog, who BAR-RUFFED to be let back outside, when he discovered I did not remain inside with him, where it was w-a-r-m. Some sort of dog-trash about The Hallowed Man/Dog Solidarity, I suppose.

And, this is The Dog, who found it necessary to BAR-RUFF again to have my company for a foray beyond the perimeter walls of the garden, probably, fearing an unpleasant encounter with that nasty black dog, who insists on wee-wee-ing where The Dog has just wee-wee-ed. Apparently, The Dog is very protective of his s-p-o-t-s.
How could I get my gardening in with these sorts of canine interruptions?
So, the next day, I left The Dog in town, so the maid could deal with his inconsistencies. Gads.