Perhaps inspired by yesterday’s post – but more likely inspired by the continuing rainfall – Mama Dog spent some time today looking for a new umbrella. “I’ve never had a really good umbrella,” she told me.” I have. Best umbrella I’ve ever had. It was a big wooden-handled item from London Fog. I found it hanging on a bus bench in downtown Oakland one day in 1996. I don’t believe it was raining that day. I looked this way, I looked that. Nobody was around. According to maritime salvage laws (which I believe are recognised as transferable to bus routes), the umbrella was mine for the claiming. It was a great umbrella. Not very compact, but sturdier than any I’d owned before or since. I used to feel like a Secret Service man, escorting Mama Dog with the umbrella over both our heads as she ducked in to the car. All told, I had it for about three years. With a literary inevitability, I left it hanging on a bus bench in downtown Oakland. I hope it’s still ably serving the lucky person who found it.