It's raining, it's pouring....
Anyone interested in a slightly muddy, slightly more constipated pitbull? Very affectionate, particularly when wet.
Oscar has decided he's afraid of rain. Everytime he's asked to go out today, the scenario has been this:
Door opens.
Dog backs up in terror, as sky appears to be falling in giant, wet, clumps.
Mommy makes dog go outside.
Dog refuses to move farther than three feet from Mommy, because that's the distance at which the giant wet sky-clumps will kill you.
Mommy coos "please go potty, baby, mommy is cold."
Dog looks very apologetic, but does not go potty.
Mommy grows cranky at standing in the ankle deep mudflow that is her yard and begs some more.
Dog is very, very, very sorry, but knows dogs are weakest when going potty, and that's just what the giant wet sky-clumps are waiting for.
Mommy's hair is now standing on end (yet attractively humidity-caused curly, because mommy's hair likes to screw with her) and mommy is shivering.
Dog is still very, very sorry, and still not going potty.
Giant wet sky-clumps take a fifteen second break.
Dog remembers that he is a four year old boy, runs ten feet away from mommy with more glee than you'd think you could fit into a package that size, turns around, skidding through the mud, bounds back to mommy, saving the biggest jump for the landing right in front of mommy, spattering them both from head to toe (ruining the effect of mommy's pretty humidity-caused curls).
Just then, giant wet sky-clumps remember what fun they'd been having previously and strike up the band once again.
Doggy runs in fear, still having not gone to potty.
Damp, muddy Mommy weeps in corner.
Oscar has decided he's afraid of rain. Everytime he's asked to go out today, the scenario has been this:
Door opens.
Dog backs up in terror, as sky appears to be falling in giant, wet, clumps.
Mommy makes dog go outside.
Dog refuses to move farther than three feet from Mommy, because that's the distance at which the giant wet sky-clumps will kill you.
Mommy coos "please go potty, baby, mommy is cold."
Dog looks very apologetic, but does not go potty.
Mommy grows cranky at standing in the ankle deep mudflow that is her yard and begs some more.
Dog is very, very, very sorry, but knows dogs are weakest when going potty, and that's just what the giant wet sky-clumps are waiting for.
Mommy's hair is now standing on end (yet attractively humidity-caused curly, because mommy's hair likes to screw with her) and mommy is shivering.
Dog is still very, very sorry, and still not going potty.
Giant wet sky-clumps take a fifteen second break.
Dog remembers that he is a four year old boy, runs ten feet away from mommy with more glee than you'd think you could fit into a package that size, turns around, skidding through the mud, bounds back to mommy, saving the biggest jump for the landing right in front of mommy, spattering them both from head to toe (ruining the effect of mommy's pretty humidity-caused curls).
Just then, giant wet sky-clumps remember what fun they'd been having previously and strike up the band once again.
Doggy runs in fear, still having not gone to potty.
Damp, muddy Mommy weeps in corner.
posted by Amie at
7:17 PM
6 Comments:
You need this: http://www.walmart.com/catalog/product.do?product_id=5223212.
Just sayin'.
Comedic. :)
Hee! My Schnauzer has not yet been infected with the fear of the giant, wet sky-clumps; instead she comes in soaking wet with muddy paws. I can usually get her dried off/cleaned up before she covers too much in mud. Good luck to Oscar (and you) in overcoming his fear.
Our Jada thinks the best thing in the world is to waller (yeah WALLER, not WALLOW) in the mud in the chicken paddock during a rain storm. There's nothing like the smell of wet dog AND chicken poo combined.
Sheesh . . .
boys!
Emma & Gracie
That is such a beautiful tale of trying to get a dog to weewee in the wet. You need a big umbrella and a grassy place? Does Oscar hate snowy pitstops, too?
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