I had no jacket, so it rained.
I had to dredge up my good citizen parts. They're buried pretty deeply.
Suffice it to say, those may be my hands and feet, but that's not my dog:
Better being muttered at swearily by me than under a truck, I reckoned. She followed me over the roundabout and was quite obedient when I told her to come over here and sit down. Owner arrived 10 minutes later, following a phone call. During which time it kicked it down, and that charming aroma of wet dog drifted all over me.
Still, the brewery's stinking tonight too, so I can't smell it any more.