Conversations with Dog

McKinley: Why does it rain?

Me: Ummm, because the flowers need water?

McKinley: But I don’t like rain. 

Me:  I know.

McKinley: Make it stop.

Me: “Salagadoola, Mechica boola, Bibbidi Bobbity Boo!” Oops, sorry, didn’t work.

McKinley: Why does Sam like rain?

Me: He doesn’t like it, he just doesn’t care if he gets wet.

McKinley: I think rain can kill you.

Me: You are not the Wicked Witch of the West. You will not melt.

McKinley: Are you sure?

Me: I can throw you out in the rain to find out.

McKinley: Mom, that’s not funny…

Me: My wee little doggie, have you noticed?

McKinley: Noticed what?

Me: You’re not as afraid of the rain as you used to be. Why do you think that is?

McKinley: Sam’s not afraid, Mom. He likes rain. Sam likes everything. He’s always happy. 

Me: You think maybe you learned not to be afraid from Sam?

McKinley: Maybe. but don’t throw me out in the rain. 

Me: Have I ever done that? 

McKinley: I like sunshine.

Me: I know that too.

McKinley: I guess rain is okay if it is a drizzle, or – what do you call it? – a two-foot rain. 

Sam: If you two members of my fan club are done IMG_1898talking, it would sure be nice if we could take a walk. Because I gotta, you know, go water the bushes.  And Pocket told me there’s a cute long-haired red Dachshund named Emma down by the back gate. She might be out today. Hubba-hubba.

McKinley: You’re such a barbarian, Sam.

Sam: Don’t you forget it, babe. 






Conversations with Dog

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