You know by now this dog is one to be constantly awed by the panorama of the natural world,
welcoming the changing seasons with relish, an infernal optimist who finds something grand and lovely about rain, sleet, even wind. 
However, maybe with age, or possibly with the irritability that comes with a long spell of triple digit temperatures, I just want to hole up on the damp ground down by my shady creek. 
Or, I’ll use my best vocals to grouse about the weather.
Recreational Weather Grousing may well be the next world class sport. Now in the midst of a summer inferno or flood, or drought, you may think that grumbling about the whims of the sky is a fitting topic of conversation in every circle, from daycare sandbox to the Oval office.
But I submit to you that a person, a dog, and a dog’s person – should earn the right to gripe a bit about a capricious climate. 
Kid’s generally don’t mind what falls – or doesn’t – from the sky, finding entertainment in sun, rain, or snow. Sprout freely admits he loves snow, but is clearly as entertained by sun, rain and – his favorite – mud.
I’ve noticed that, while kids are seemingly oblivious to jet streams and cold fronts, they are nonetheless storing up records of every storm, so that someday, many years later, they can share historical highlights, when delicate children and grandchildren whine about the cold, the heat, or the long walk to school.
This is usually a sentence that begins “Why, when I was your age…” and ends with an example of how weather was much worse in the old days, as in “…I walked 10 miles to school, in the Blizzard of ’59 – the snow so deep I had to carry my pony!”
So, while they may be gathering ammunition for future weather-grousing, kids have not earned that right yet.
So age is one way to earn status in the sport of weather-grousing. Everyone, by retirement age, has seen enough wild atmospheric variety to bellyache a little, unless they spent those years in Hawaii, the Caribbean, or the original Garden. Us old cowdogs start to feel it in our bones; as intelligent and clever as we are, I bet we could predict the weather better than Gabriel Fahrenheit [yes, that fahrenheit] or Jim Cantore, if we could speak your language.
If you pay attention, some of us can tell you a storm is coming while the sky is still sunny!
Ranchers and farmers are born into a highly respected class of weather-grousers. 
Mom learned this from a good friend, who ran a never-summer ranch on the west slopes of the Bridger Mountains. Living close to the earth, they keep an eye on the sky, and the payments and punishments that are hurled toward their fields are intimate.
Now understand that this old cowdog is not whining about the weather. Recreational weather grousing is definitely not a generalized constant complaint, but carefully crafted observation of the finer details outside.
If you have lived through what the popular media would call a “major weather event,” you get to tell stories and fuss a bit, though in these end-days of diverse weather in diverse places – hurricanes, tornadoes, firestorms and base-ball hail become just another near-death tale.
After you reach old age, however, these stories can be repeated continuously, having become historical lore.
The boss remembers the Wisconsin Tornado of 1959, though mostly from hearing the stories from those then Senior Weather-Grousers and seeing films of it annually as a warning during tornado season.
Just a couple of weeks ago, we had some serious hail here in the foothills, something that rarely happens. It was not as big as my retrieving balls, but as big as a golf ball I’m sure, sounding like cannon balls on the metal roof.
This month there has been record-breaking highs, hail, inches of rain, and lightning caused fires all around.
If we didn’t have to weather the weather, conversation would virtually cease, as this is the main icebreaker and most common topic of discussion. If we lived in a perfectly harmonious environment, could we fully appreciate the delightful creation of a spectacularly powerful Creator? 
Would we then believe that we – mere mortals – had control over our world?
Watching hail wipe out a garden, on its way to pummel the car…waking to three feet of pristine snow…glorying in a long-awaited downpour – keeps us humble and gives us something to talk about.
Mercifully, in our little valley, we aren’t on fire or coping with floods right now; people in those predictaments don’t have time for weather grousing, but sure will have some stories to tell later. Weather grousing should always be seasoned with plenty of prayer.
Right now, I’d invite you to join me in a rousing bout of weather-grousing – but it’s just too dang hot!
“The sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night.”
Psalm 121:6
