Wednesday, October 17, 2007

It's raining.

The dogs will not go outside to pee or worse in the rain.

They will stand there for hours, as I block their way back into the house, shouting, "Go pee. You are not coming back into this house until you pee." I cannot get them to understand that if they had gone ahead and done their business, they would be out of the rain by now. They stand in the storm and look sad. "Go pee! No one gets in until they pee."

But of course I let them in. Sodden, but full of bladder or worse. I, too, am soaked by now. I waste a little time. Putter on the computer. Think about the Meaning of Life. (Rain can have that effect on a person.) Towel off the old dogs. Watch the rain in the streetlight outside my window.

"Out, dogs! Right now, time for bed, let's go!" The downpour had momentarily lessened to a drizzle.

With decidedly less than their usual enthusiasm, the dogs slink down the stairs behind me, anticipating another drenching. There is no jostling jockeying to be first out. Noses tentatively poke around the doorway to see if it's worth proceeding. One by one they tippy-toe onto the the breezeway, and then, with me poking the reticent butts, they descend the three steps into the potty yard.

BLAM! Here comes the rain again. But I am at the top of the steps standing guard, and bladder-emptying has begun. It's pouring harder than ever. They have all peed.

They slink by me, casting glances of "How could you? We trust you, and you have made us wet. We are disappointed in you."

But, they're dogs. So the instant they are out of the rain and in the house the celebration begins. "Woo-hooooo! We are out of the horrid wetness! We are wet and silly!" As I attempt to dry them off with the big, soft, oversized towels kept handy for just such an occasion, the young 'uns start the Wet Whippet Zoomies. The Old Dogs bark at them. It sounds to my dog-language-challenged ears as though they are encouraging, rather than chastising the folly.

And then, the sweet smelling, rain water soft, whole happy herd ascends the stairs. They get their biscuits, snuggle into their blankets and dream of sunshine and dry, golden fields where they run and run and run.

6 comments:

  1. We go through the same rigmarole when it's raining too. I think it's the towelling down that sets them off, the do love it!!

    Do you think two wet hairy Lurchers and one wet Greyhound equal nine wet Whippets? Debatable that one!!

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  2. Ah yes, rain, lots of wet rain..And, lazy whippets.

    vee

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  3. I hate the rain too! Mom even holds an umbrella over my head and still I give her such a hard time! I hate going poopoo in the snow even worse! Mom says she wishes that I could use the inside toilet on rainy and snowy days! Me too!

    Love ya lots,
    Maggie

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  4. oh boy, we've had to go through this routine a lot lately, including this morning! Besides the usual, my old dog needs to be carried up and down steps and hates rain more than the rest. To help them out, I let them out one at a time under the big pine tree in the front yard on a leash or cable. It keeps the rain off them for the most part, but today as I stood out there in jammies and slippers, I realized I had stood in some poo-poo and almost brought it in the house.... double yuck, wet and poopy feet!
    Even Simmer has not had a house accident since last winter ran into my studio and snuck a poopie today without so much as a whimper to ask to go out first!
    So this made me smile, Patience :-)
    laurie

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  5. Tilly's not bothered by the rain, whereas Prince used to do anything to avoid it!

    A wonderfully funny, and beautifully written post as ever Patience.....

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  6. Nine dogs full of love for you - how wonderful!

    Not so wonderful the elctricity bill for all the towel washing!!

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