Rainy Days Really Get The Dog Down

I knew before I even opened my eyes what kind of day it would be. I could hear the rain beating against the window. I rolled over and was greeted by a big paw headed in the direction of my nose. This is how Lou Lou likes to wake you up when she is in a bad mood. She sits on the floor beside the bed and as soon as your face is in range, she smacks you on the nose with her left front paw. How do I know she’s in a bad mood?  It’s raining.

Lou Lou + Rain = A Very Trying Day For Me

Rain wrecks this dog’s world. Please bear in mind that we are talking about a dog who will sprint to jump in any available natural body of water. Lake, ocean, creek, river, you name it. The dirtier and stinkier the water, the better. But rain? Hell no. This is a dog who, when forced to go outdoors during a rainstorm, acts as if it is acid fire falling from the sky and each individual drop feels like a dagger being plunged between her ribs. Puddles also present a huge problem since she likens them to small pools filled with microscopic attack animals that will eat her fur and flesh starting from her toenails up. So even after it has quit raining, I’m still not out of her melodramatic woods.

Don’t make me go out in the rain, please!

What’s the big deal? It’s raining, so she doesn’t go out as much. Yep, and therein lies the problem. Every day of her life, except when it’s raining, begins with a long walk coupled with an off-leash session of high-speed ball chasing or wrestling with a buddy. She expects it and I’ll readily admit that it’s one of the best things we’ve done when it comes to her health. After getting all her crazies out first thing in the morning, she’s a mellow dog for the remainder of the day. It works perfectly when the weather cooperates since it gives me a dog who is content to lie underneath my desk for hours at a time. When the weather doesn’t cooperate, I’ve got emo dog to deal with.

Rainy day Lou Lou begins her campaign of crabbiness from beside the bed and continues it throughout the day. The first wrinkle is the rainy day poop strike. This dog will not take a shit in the rain. She’ll dash out and pee, but will not entertain a walk or being outside in the rain long enough to do #2. Even after hoovering her breakfast, she will not go out to poop. This sets us up for hours of stealthy doggy death farts. She will lie under my desk and let ’em rip until the rain stops and she consents to go outside. If we lived in a place where it rained for days at a time, like Seattle, we’d have to invest in gas masks to wear around the house. As I type this, I have a farting, backed-up, grumpy dog under my desk, a candle burning and an open window. Sheer bliss.

In addition to the malodorous under-desk emanations, I have a whiny, restless, under-exercised dog on my hands. She’ll pace around the house, drag all the toys out of each toy bin, and then come back to fart under my desk. When I’ve had enough of this, we’ll decamp for the basement agility dojo, where she’ll halfheartedly run a few short courses until she decides to lie down and hide in the tunnel. You can practically feel this dog’s ennui at being trapped inside due to fire-water falling from the sky. Next, it’s stuffing all the Nina Ottoson dog puzzles with treats and hiding them around the house. After that, we’ll practice rally-o or work on a trick. Then I’m out of options and cursing the weather gods until it stops raining. Any ideas, dear readers?