When it rains, my dog sighs. She swans about like Joni Mitchell and then burrows under the covers. Oh, the melancholy!
Normally, when I leave the house without her, she explodes into a desperate panic of barking, thinking that I’ve simply forgotten her. However, when it’s raining out, she doesn’t bark. She’s hopeful that she’s slipped my mind, and doesn’t want to do a thing to remind me of her presence. She’s in stealth mode, holding her breath as she listens to my squishy footsteps proceed down the street, waiting until she’s satisfied that I’m far enough away to resume normal activity.