Thursday, September 1, 2016

God help the frogs

After weeks with no rain other than the occasional thunder storm, it has now gone full tropical on us, with hours upon hours this evening of complete frog-strangling deluge. Naturally, this did not start until I got home and was ready to walk Jeb the Wonder Dog. I gathered some towels from the basement, put them by the front door,  and off we went.

Naturally, Jeb gives zero fucks about rain (same way he feels about cold) and so was in no hurry to drop the deuce. This despite my constant entreaties to him to "Let's be a good boy" and "Come on and poopy" and "Just fucking shit you rat bastard."

Eventually, he did. Naturally, the time he took was considerably longer than the time my apparel was designed to keep me reasonably dry, so we were both pretty much soaked when we got home. I had to dry him off -- and, naturally, this did nothing to make the great outdoors more appealing to me. I might never be dry again.

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