Quick Poll

Did you agree with President Obama's decision on Thursday to waive the No Child Left Behind requirements in 10 states, including Georgia?

Blogs

Angela McRae

Tea with friends

Deberah Williams

Everyday Finesse

Lorrie Lynch

Who's News

Published Thursday, April 16, 2009 in Opinion

Raining cats and dogs

Being in charge of my daughter's pets while she and her husband were on vacation had its moments.

As if to test my mettle, one of the cats, Misu, slipped outside, ran around the house and began tugging frantically at the locked screen door on the front porch. It sounded like a crazed killer, banging on the door, trying to get in.

I peeked through the peep hole and no one was there. Of course no one was there. The cat is only ten inches tall. I didn't look that low on the ground as I was looking for a guy in a hockey mask with a chain saw.

Bang! Bang! Bang! The screen door banged so loudly that even the dogs fell for it. A frenzy of barking at the door followed by my standing on my toes, peering through the peep hole and clutching an umbrella my hand must have been very entertaining to cat number two, Sophia, who smugly sat curled up on a printer in a nearby office. It was then I noticed it was raining and a very wet Misu was plotting her entry into the house. I felt it was in the best interest of everyone involved that I make a hole for the determined feline by opening the door.

The next morning it was still raining. My two Boston Terriers had traveled with me and combined with my daughter's Italian Greyhound and Redbone Coonhound, I had four dogs to take care of. These were four dogs that needed to go outside for an early morning relief stroll, and in the pouring rain.

Thinking they might be eager to go out, I was still in my pajamas when I headed for the door. The dogs were having none of the whole going-out-in-the-rain-to-potty plan. They were perfectly fine holding it in their teeny tanks until one of them would spring a leak. There would be no leak springing on my watch, that's what I always say, so I put on my tennis shoes which do not match my pajamas by the way, and I picked up Monty, the Italian Greyhound and carried him outside. The other three sat waiting, as if watching to see who would win this contest.

I put Monty in the grass and he took off hopping like the circus dog he is. One hind leg came up in the air, bounced a few times and was followed by the second hind leg, making it possible for him to do his acrobatic stunt on his front feet as he zipped across the patio and into the house. I followed him inside. His ears were bent and flopped to the sides and he looked like he got the worst of it. The other dogs just stared at him, obviously wondering how he walks like he does.

I remembered then that I had a few things I could use to make this endeavor easier. Both Monty and Ellie, the Coonhound, have raincoats. I put them on the two dogs. My Bostons glanced at one another, still entertained with the human-is-going-out-there-again-in-her-p.j.'s-and-she's-already-soaking-wet show.

There was the umbrella from the night before, so I grabbed it from the stand by the front door. I picked up Monty who was now a circus dog in a bright yellow raincoat. I couldn't open the umbrella and fit through the door so I had to stand in the rain and open it as best I could while holding the little dog. I carried him as far across the yard as I could so he would have farther to run inside. Hopefully we would have success, that is, if he ever put his rear toward the ground. Just a few two-legged trots down the hill and eureka! My plan worked. Circus dog bounced and skipped his way back into the house, yellow raincoat bobbing over his head.

Ellie was next, and without much fanfare, she managed to deliver the mail, so to speak. My Bostons were last, and they were not amused with the plan. Kerby shivered, though I held the umbrella over her. Hoover lumbered around the yard, not nearly as affected as the other three. We're not entirely sure how smart Hoover is, but we love him just the same. He blinked the rain out of his eyes and waited for me to go back into the house before he would follow.

By the time I came back in, I was soaked. The dogs wanted a treat and I just wanted some dry clothes.

Both of the cats had taken care to position themselves to witness the entire event of dogs and human going out into the rain. Misu glared at me, slitting her eyes in warning. "Don't worry," I said as I walked by, "you don't have to go out there."

And then I remembered. There is a litter box in the garage.

I checked the calendar and marked the day that my daughter and her husband would return. It would be a great day indeed.

Comment On This Story

Times-Herald.com does not necessarily agree with the comments posted below. Responsibility of comments rests solely with the writer. Comments posted in ALL CAPS will be deleted.

Submission of a comment does not guarantee publication. Comments will be posted by a moderator after being scanned for abusive language, relevance, etc. See our Comments FAQ for more details.