Every day, Mina, Celeste and I hike around a park for several miles. We do this to torture me.
Today, it started to rain. With a reason known only to herself, Mina insisted on going for a walk. I gently reminded her that it was raining and she, being a prim and proper lady, would not enjoy the wetness. But she demanded a jaunt across town.
Sometimes, I'm too lenient of an owner. This was one of those times. I agreed to take Mina on a walk. In the pouring rain.
For approximately .02 seconds, Mina enjoyed the walk. She pranced and trotted and acted like a springy dog. Proudlly wearing a checkered raincoat, Mina knew nothing could touch her. Except for the rain. But she didn't know that yet.
Soon she knew. Approximately, .03 seconds into the walk, Mina glared at me with a look that could curl wallpaper. Or paint. Whichever metaphor is appropriate. Her head hung low (but it did not wobble to and fro), and she wore a wholly false "I am dejected, woe is me" look. Only her head and feet were getting wet, but that was one head and four feet too many.
I decided to trek forth, because in MY infinite wisdom and glory, I thought a walk required a beginning, middle and end that extended beyond the driveway. Mina vehemently disagreed. So, we sojourned on.
This was a bad idea on my part. Suddenly, bright flashes of lightning dashed merrily across the sky, mocking me for my stupidity. I nervously looked around, judging what taller items were nearby. I glanced at Mina, and when she pinned me with a "Don't even think about throwing me up in the air so *I* appear taller" look, I quickly averted my glance.
I picked up the pace. Mina didn't. In fact, she slowed down. She was starting to wallow in self-pity, and when Mina wallows, it's a very serious affair. Soon snails and turtles and invisible, but very slow, creatures were passing us. Thankfully, an adorable pit bull in a car yelled at Mina to pick up the pace, because of lightning bugs. And she did. She made sure to say a bright and cheery "HI!!! WE ARE PIT BULLS! THANKS FOR THE WARNING ABOUT LIGHTNING BUGS!!" in passing (trust me, Mina's bright and cheery whine is far different than her "Your mama's a rhino" insult of yesterday).
We made it home relatively unscathed. Mina's wittle patchy-head was damp and she made sure to rub her paws extra hard into the rug. Both of us were not electrocuted. Celeste was bitter but happy with our return and managed to avoid making a fool of herself for five-tenths of a second. I love my dogs. And just so you know, the best drink after a harrowing lightning walk is a beer. Or hot cocoa. Possibly both. We shall see.
PS: If anyone gets the reference in my post's title, then you are a winner at life. Seriously.
Of Loose Dogs and Scratched Trucks
When Good Dogs go Bad
The Book Incident