Rain Is Rude…

A few thoughts from Wally on weather, water, and personal boundaries.

Everyone says I’m part Labrador. And apparently, according to humans, this means I’m supposed to love water.

I would like to clear something up.

I do not.

Well… that’s not entirely true. I like baths.

Baths are warm. Baths are predictable. There are towels afterward. Sometimes treats are involved.

Baths are civilized.

Rain is not.

Rain just falls out of the sky without asking.

One minute, I’m standing at the back door ready to go outside and take care of very important dog business. The next minute?

Wet.

Paws wet. Back wet. Head wet.

Completely unacceptable.

Mom will open the door and say, “Come on, Wally. It’s just rain.”

Just rain?

Easy for her to say. She’s standing inside.

Sometimes I’ll put one paw out just to confirm the situation.

Yep. Still raining.

Then I look back at Mom. Surely she has another plan.

Maybe another door where it isn’t raining?

Apparently, she does not.

So eventually, I go. Reluctantly.

I walk into the yard, do what needs to be done, and return immediately, usually with the expression of someone who has been deeply inconvenienced.

Then comes the best part.

The towel.

Mom dries my head, my back, my paws, and tells me what a good boy I am for surviving such terrible conditions.

And just like that, all is forgiven.

Mostly.

Here’s what I’ve learned:

You don’t have to like everything people think you’re supposed to like.

You’re allowed to have preferences.

You’re allowed to change your mind.

And you’re definitely allowed to think rain is rude.

As for me?

I’ll be inside. Watching through the window.

Just making sure the rain stays outside…

where it belongs.

— Wally 🐾❤️