Raindrops Finally Falling on My Head

We’ve been suffering from a drought nearly all summer. A drought along with temperatures far better suited for Death Valley than verdant little Maryville. Our grass is brown and brittle. There are big cracks in the ground. It is not a lush green paradise. So, we were delighted when it finally began to rain tonight. That is, Eric and I were delighted. Ivan and Dasa, not so much.  

Dasa. I must interject, is a most sensible little girl. She doesn’t feel the need to stroll down the street in inclement weather. She trots briskly into the backyard, potties quickly, and scampers back inside for treats, effusive praise, and lots of snuggles and kisses. Should we attempt a walk under these intemperate circumstances, she makes a quick loop out of the garage, onto the driveway, and back into the garage. She goes about 6 feet onto the driveway, doesn’t even pretend to touch the grass, and is back in the garage in about 4 seconds. I love this little girl.

Ivan, my wonderfully exuberant boy who has to do things his own way, insists on his walk, even when the weather is frightful. So, tonight while it was raining, Dasa ventured a few steps out of the garage, felt the first few raindrops, and wisely turned back inside. Never one to drag my little girl by her tiny neck, I followed along back into the house.  Ivan, however, forged ahead, trotting bravely and determinedly out into the rain with Eric at the other end of the leash.

 

They soon realized it was raining a bit more than they originally thought, and it was a brisk and abbreviated walk. I tried to get a photo of them returning from this walk, but they refused to stop and pose for me. Even my pleas that it was difficult to focus in the rain did not sway them and they rushed past me into the house.

 I grabbed a towel and dried my soggy boy. My efforts were not sufficient, so poor little Ivan carefully licked off the raindrops before he melted. I’m happy to report that, although it was a close thing, we did manage to save him from the horrid consequences of contact with water.