My favorite thing...
This weekend, the city is getting some much needed rain. There seems to be nothing gentle about rain in So. Cal. It comes heavy, or at least heavy enough to cause flooding, landslides and makes a general mess of things.
I don't mind so much. I like being buried underneath blankets and listening to the rain outside when I sleep. This Sunday, the day is looking quite gloomy, and it rains on and off. My computer room is toasty warm, I have my coffee, I'm on the computer and listening to opera (yes, I'm one of THOSE people). The dog is curled up beside me on his little bed.
Walking the dog in the rain has been entertaining, to say the least. He firmly believes that rain water will make him melt, and his remains will be washed out into the ocean. He takes one look at the massive puddles outside our door, and you can actually see the little wheels clicking in his head. He gives me the look that says, "yeah, right".
I know what he's thinking, and so I tell him, "It's going to be like this all weekend. You gotta go sometime."
His next look is, "I can hold it. I dare you to think otherwise."
And so I drag the poor mutt through the puddles, and he gives me that hurt look like I just tried to roast him in the oven.
He's such a California dog!
I don't mind so much. I like being buried underneath blankets and listening to the rain outside when I sleep. This Sunday, the day is looking quite gloomy, and it rains on and off. My computer room is toasty warm, I have my coffee, I'm on the computer and listening to opera (yes, I'm one of THOSE people). The dog is curled up beside me on his little bed.
Walking the dog in the rain has been entertaining, to say the least. He firmly believes that rain water will make him melt, and his remains will be washed out into the ocean. He takes one look at the massive puddles outside our door, and you can actually see the little wheels clicking in his head. He gives me the look that says, "yeah, right".
I know what he's thinking, and so I tell him, "It's going to be like this all weekend. You gotta go sometime."
His next look is, "I can hold it. I dare you to think otherwise."
And so I drag the poor mutt through the puddles, and he gives me that hurt look like I just tried to roast him in the oven.
He's such a California dog!