When it is raining or there is a bad storm brewing my favorite place is at home with my dogs and husband. My dogs aren’t scared of storms, but I don’t think they like them. Roxy is my little ninja and she has figured out how to jump our 3 foot baby gate. If someone is in the other part of the house and a storm is coming she will jump up and hook her front legs over the top of the gate and wiggle back and forth until she catapults herself over into the living room. She is only 20 lbs, but I still think she is smarter than us. I highly recommend youtubing boston terrier climbs fence and you will see the array of bostons that can scale a chain link fence. It is quite a talent for the little tikes. My other dog, Ringo, a 60 pound American Bulldog could jump the fence with no problem, but luckily he hasn’t figured that out yet. Instead he pouts and sulks while Roxy runs around teasing him with her exceptional escape. When it is storming they just like the reassurance that there is a person in the room with them. I like to think they are happier when I am there, but the truth is, they would be happy with the bugman.

My first tropical storm in Southern Georgia was last year when Faye came through and sat on our house for 3 long days. Ringo wasn’t even 5 months old yet, but he had been so good at going potty outside. That was the only time he had an accident. During extended storms, Roxy likes to potty on the floor just for spite. It’s like she thinks we’ve asked the sky to open up and pour its torrential offspring down on us. It was during Faye, that Marty decided indoors was no way to spend our first tropical storm. So, he put on his swimming trunks, and ran outside. I, being a hopeless romantic envisioned a scene from a movie, and willingly followed in a ratty old tshirt and shorts that had been buried in my drawer for good reasons. We don’t have an awning over our back door, so the moment I stepped out I felt the cold rush of liquid run down my back. I took a quick inhale and ran out to meet Marty. Staying on the porch was not enough for him. He insisted that we run out to the lowest point of our postage stamp yard. We were ankle deep in water with various kinds of organic matter floating in it. Nothing gross, that I could see, just grass clippings, twigs, and dog toys that were carried by the rain. The dogs, thinking it had stopped raining because surely the people wouldn’t run outside in such weather, ran outside right along with us. Ringo thought it was the best time he’d had in his whole life! He splashed in the puddles and unsuccessfully did the doggie shake to get the excess rain off. Roxy was mad. And if you have never been around a dog that gets mad, you should see this dog. She ran outside and the moment the rain hit her she kept running as if she thought there must be some corner of the yard that isn’t getting pelted with the devil’s wrath! She turned and high tailed it back to the safety of her doggie door which she carefully peeked out of to keep an eye on her people. She would stick her head out just enough to see what was going on without getting wet. To this day, we will purposely leave the door open and let the dogs run out in the rain. They both immediately run out and Roxy comes right back in. Ringo proceeds to antagonize Roxy until she has to join him in the rain to teach him a lesson.