This morning was the first rainy dogwalk of fall. It is always hysterical. Our condo has an indoor courtyard – so as soon as we step outside, Miss Kate can hear the rain. She starts the long slow slog outside, pouting. The trees that surround the buiding amplify even the smallest amount of rain, but at 6am – it was POURING. I popped the umbrella open and we stepped out. She rushes over into the bushes and immediately pees and gives me that look like, “Ok, I’m done, we can go back in now.” Instead, we head downstairs to the car where she gets a delayed sentence. We drive to the coffeeshop and once I return with my coffee, she and I have a discussion.
“Once you are out in it, it’ll be fine. And there is a nice warm towel waiting at home.”
We drive to the park, and I leash her up and off we go. The rain stops for a while, and she gets in her morning sniffs. But everything is different in the wet, her favorite sleuthing between the pompom grasses becomes like a car between brushes in a car wash. The paths become muddy and everything she brushes up against results in a cascade of droplets.
We’re about to make a u-turn back to the car and the rain starts again. She stops in her tracks and looks up at me with this “Tell me again how it’s going to be fine?”, scoffing at my umbrella. We get back to the car, perfectly timed with the weather forecast. NPR says “Heavy showers in the afternoon with possible thunderstorms.” and Miss Kate lets out a perfectly timed huff, “Yeah,” she says, “we won’t be doing that.”
When it’s truly pouring – she’ll try making a u-turn back into the house like “oh no we are not….” – and she literally has to get picked up and taken out to the street. It’s part of the charm of her companionship in the winter months. (giggle) I have a feeling she doesn’t find it nearly as amusing as I do.