My dogs hate the rain. I’m not that crazy about it either, given the amount of muck four dogs with long fur can drag into the house and across my kitchen floors. But my dogs REALLY hate the rain.
First thing this morning, they run to the back door in eager anticipation of a bathroom break. I open the door for them. Four dogs, sixteen paws, screech to a halt on the mudroom floor.
Charley: I’m not goin’ out there! You goin’ out there?
Sadie: Not me! No Way! That’s wet stuff comin’ down!
Belle: I’m not going out! The Royal Paws will get all muddy!
Oliver: I’m not going out! My ears will get all wet!
Sadie: Didn’t really need to go anyway. I’ll wait. I can hold it. I’ll just lie down right here until the rain stops.
Jean: OUT, dogs! C’mon, time to go OUT!
Belle: Princesses don’t do rain.
Jean: Princesses will do as they are told. OUT!
Oliver: Maybe if I hide behind the big dogs she won’t notice me.
Jean: Oliver, OUT! Charley, OUT! Sadie, OUT! Belle, OUT! Time to go potty!
[Dogs skulk out, heads down, tails down, shoulders hunched. Ever notice how totally dejected a dog can look when she/he doesn’t like something?]
Belle, the gracious one, trots away from the house, does her business and quickly returns.
Charley, the resigned one, goes over to the lawn, does her business, and quickly returns.
Oliver, the compliant one, lifts his leg on the fence post one foot from the back door, does his other business on the gravel right next to my foot, and returns inside.
And Sadie sits there. On the door stoop. In the pouring rain. Doing her best Eeyore impression. Refusing to budge.
Sadie: I don’t gotta go. Really I don’t. I’ll hold it. I’ll go later. I really shouldn’t be treated like this.
Jean: Sadie! I have work to do. Go pee!
Sadie: Oh all right…but don’t expect me to like it.
Sadie stomps (yes, she can stomp!) over to the edge of the grass, squats, lets out a very small stream, turns around and heads back to the house.
Jean: Hold it Sadie, you are NOT done yet. Number two, please. It will be a long day today.
Sadie: Grumble, grumble, grumble, woo-woo-woo-woo-woo. [Clicks teeth together several times in imitation of muttering under her breath]
Off she wanders back to the grass, does her business and stomps back to the house, being sure to brush her very wet, very long coat against my leg as she passes by.
Sadie: There, are ya happy now?
Jean: Good job! Sadie. Good job!
Sigh….how many days until summer returns?