I do not like getting wet. Yeah, I know I’m a dog and wet paws shouldn’t be a big deal. But they are. So? I’ll bet you don’t like getting your paws wet either.
At walk time, Diana put my harness on me and made sure we had plenty of cheese for our adventures. I jumped around a bit in front of the door and, once I’d settled down and completed one of my extra pretty, with a prancing flair “Sit Down” moves, out we went.
I flew off the steps, barking at stuff, ready to enjoy my adventures.
SCREEEECH (That’s the sound my paws made trying to break on the sidewalk).
I tucked my tail between my legs, put my head down and spun around in mid-air. Back into the house I ran. I did not stop running until I was upstairs on Diana and Michael’s big bed, burrowing under the blankets.
58 degrees and heavy rain in August? Are you kidding me? Forget it. I’m going back to bed to ride this nightmare out where it’s warm and dry.
From the bottom of the stairs, Diana called out, “Sasha? Did you forget something?”
Uhm, well, let me think. No, don’t think so.
“Don’t you want your dinner?”
EEEEEEEK. Oh, the horror. I’ve completely lost my mind. Involuntary Commitment Time. Fur sure.
Diana saved the day though. She put warm broth on my kibble and dug my special blanket out from the back of the closet.
I ended the evening with yummy in my tummy and blessed warmth on the sofa, watching a movie with my people. All in all - not bad - not bad at all.
^ . . ^ Woof