It was sweater weather once again. Of course living in the South, this statement could change on a daily basis. On Monday, it might feel like a beautiful autumn day, on Tuesday the temperature would drop to near freezing, by Thursday, the sun was shining, the birds were singing and the daffodils were timidly displaying hints of lemon petals. Suddenly on Friday, it was time for T-shirts, flip-flops and air conditioning. I would pull out the hoodies, sweaters and jackets, wrestle the dogs into their outfits just to tackle them a few days later and attempt to strip them once again. On Saturdays, when the Englishman would do the laundry, dog clothing would be added to the machine, carefully folded and placed on top of each dog's crate until the next clothing appropriate day arrived. Dogs in clothes. It still can make me smile.