Dog And Cats And Rainy Days
I am the fur mom to 2 dogs and 6 cats. We also have fish, but I didn’t count them, no fur, unless you count that ick stuff they get that looks like cotton on their bodies, then they have a lot of fur, icky fur. OK.
Something happens to my sweet little animal family when it rains. We have the critters as well as me and B-Dubb, in a two-bedroom apartment. Most of the time it’s fine, everyone has their place: Sylvester in the closet in the big bedroom, Bob on the shelf in my bathroom, Lily on top of the kitchen cabinets, Gray at the bottom of the bed, Cadee in the window. Oh, and Sammy, who has several homes from the look of his portly girth. He’s with his other family right now. The dogs, Sally and Kiki, both of the yappy-bark breeds, are sweet little gifts from God and they are usually under our feet. Until it rains.
Nobody will go outside. I don’t care how bad they have to pee or poo, they refuse to get their feet wet, so they pace around the apartment, snarking at each other cause everybody’s gotta go.
Really? Tell you what, how about you all stay in the house while I go outside and wait for the rain to stop. I’d rather get wet than sit in the house with you all right now. Later.
