It's raining dogs

It’s raining here. In fact, we’re expecting DAYS of rain. You’d think I’d be pleased. I’ve been bitching and moaning about having to water and wanting rain and now it’s here I want it gone. For one thing, the whole house smells like wet dog. Who wants to be in a house that smells of wet dog?

Then there is the issue of the dogs getting wet in the first place. They don’t like the rain so I have to drag them outside so all three of us have the pleasure of getting drenched. They stand in the middle of the yard with their heads hung low, walking around me and looking up at me like, “Please, take me in. Each drop of rain BURNS. Why do you torture us like this? I thought you loved us?” AND they are still NOT doing what we are out there for them to do. So I try coaxing them with, “Be a good girl” and “Be a good boy” and they ignore me. Then they inevitably try to slink back to the door with me yelling after them, “GET BACK HERE AND BE GOOD!” This process usually goes on for over 5 minutes before I give up. Why, oh WHY, don’t they just realize that if they run out, go to the bathroom quickly they can come back in all under 1 minute? Instead, I yell, they get drenched, we all get traumatized and they STILL don’t go to the bathroom. Sigh… damn dogs.