Deluge

We decided to go for a good walk yesterday evening. Actually, H-Mom decided to go for a good walk. Booker looked at the sky and thought better of it. But he is the one on the end of the leash and H-Mom is the boss, so off we went.

The whole day had been a drizzly mess, with off and on rain showers, but you know H-Mom ... what's a little rain?

We made it west along the river to the Andrews Street drawbridge, over and then halfway back home on the north side of the Riverwalk.

Then the sky opened up. A downpour. A deluge. H-Mom ran for one of the gazebos and tucked up along the protected side, Booker with his tail tucked between his legs looking at her with an "I told you so" hound dog look. It was Booker and H-Mom and a WTF with a bottle of vodka and an assortment of black garbage bags, watching the sheets of rain roll past.

This was not one of our 10-minute tropical downpours. This was a soaking of oceanic proportions. It was not ending in 10 minutes, 20 or 30. This was hours worth of rain.

H-Mom called home to report in. Not lost, just under a quasi-shelter. But definately stuck. Man-Dad was in Chicago, so he couldn't help. The teen-human doesn't have a license yet. No cash for a cab, and what cab would smile upon a soaking wet coonhound?

The WTF was sucking on his bottle and saying something about DOGS.

H-Mom decided to brave the rain. Booker wasn't so certain and was having some serious wavering of confidence in "the leader."

H-Mom ran for the 3rd Avenue drawbridge. The street underneath it looked dryer, at worst. It was raining so hard that after five steps, H-Mom couldn't even see where she was running.

Under the drawbridge, there was a convention of 15 WTFs. It was a WTF downpour party. With strange blankets and smokes and bottles of off-brand alcohol. H-Mom and Booker huddled under the pigeon nests, with the thumping of cars and trucks crossing overhead.

And then the teen-human called. She was coming to the rescue, with a golf umbrella and soaking wet sneakers.

But she went the wrong way. It was all very confusing. Booker was trying to convince H-Mom that we lived in a different building. A closer building. The rain was completely disorienting.

Somehow we all met at home. Wet beyond imagination.

This morning, Booker greeted H-Mom's "Let's go WALKING!" with some skepticsm.

"Walking with you," his eyes said. "What an offer."