The animals are lining up two-by-two, Dad is talking about raising the house on stilts, and it is black as night outside. The Puppy is trembling. He hasn’t figured out how to crawl under the wall-to-wall carpeting, but it’s not for lack of trying.
Which is the only reasonable response imaginable.
I don’t mind the monsoon. Not exactly. It means a bit of rejiggering of the to-do list: there will be no attack on weeds in this weather. The problem is there are some things that Must Be Done (like grocery shopping) that require going out in this mess. Unless you might consider eating Cheerios for the next several meals until the storms pass?
Didn’t think so.
In a while, Dad and I will venture out into the Weather.
If we’re not back by dinnertime, send a dove.