The dog clambers down the stoop onto the wet sidewalk, takes a beat, and then, as the rain pours down, looks up at me with the most accusing eyes I've ever seen.
Once I get her to walk again (she sniffs in disgust at her low, quickly moistening state), we walk over to her favorite tree, but once there, she noses the ground a couple times, and then, lifting her paws gingerly, pulls me away.
We go to another, scrawnier tree, so skinny we don't normally allow her to pee on it for fear of killing the withering thing, but she somehow knows that the deluge has suspended the rules, and she does her business in the rain.
Back inside, her fur glistens as if dusted in diamonds, until I try to wipe her down with a Shamwow, and suddenly she's like some kind of enormous, bristly sponge, with a vaguely doggy smell.
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One year ago today: Not As Helpful As I Could Have Been
Two years ago today: Hands
Three years ago today: That's That
Five years ago today: 10-27-11 safe
Six years ago today: 10-27-10 let's pretend
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