Proof Positive Pups Can't Pee Under Plastic Ponchos

SodaPop and Ginger Ale

I haven't had to break out the doggie raingear for more than a year, but tonight was the night. It's been raining since morning, and it's not that dainty Seattle rain, either. This is buckets being collected and subsequently dumped on your oh-so-suspecting head as you stroll under the 100 year-old maples of the neighborhood.

It's also cooler than usual, and I for one didn't want any more damn sinus pain than I have been having, nor did I wish to create two flu-ridden pups as I am about to leave for Denver. I know--being cold and wet does not cause colds. It does, however, make you believe you will catch a cold, and the cold you create for yourself is the very worst of colds.

So I fished out my fleece and rain gear, and found it right alongside the pups' ponchos. Soda was horrified to see those had not made it to Goodwill with the rest of the items I thought we'd never use again. Certainly Soda never intended to use hers again. She cursed herself for not informing me of this sooner.

So, all suited up, we went into the drenched and dreary night. But it was to no avail. We circled the block, jumping streams that had not been there yesterday, and Soda repeatedly ventured out onto lawns as if to do her business. But it was not to be. She would not be convinced that the sky would not fall should she pee in her poncho. Ginger eventually overcame her shyness, but as I dropped Soda's leash (as I often do when we walk because she prefers my company to squirrels and stays by my side, unlike Ginger the Great Squirrel Huntress) she turned tail (I assume, as I could see no tail) and headed for home. Her little yellow hood may have been pulled down over her eyes, but she knew where she was going: home. And nothing would keep her from it.

She could always pee tomorrow.