🐾A Rainy Afternoon with My Dog

🐾 A Rainy Afternoon with My Dog

Rain was tapping gently on the window when I noticed him — curled up by the door, eyes blinking slowly, ears twitching at the sound of thunder.
He doesn’t like the rain much, but he doesn’t fight it either. He waits. Patient. Like he knows it’s just a part of life, this passing grayness.

I grabbed his favorite blanket and wrapped him up like a burrito. He gave me that look — the one that says, “I’m not impressed, but I’ll allow it.” Then he sighed. One of those long, dramatic dog sighs that somehow say more than words.

We didn’t go out today. No muddy paws, no chasing squirrels, no tug-of-war with wet sticks. Instead, we stayed in. I made tea. He watched birds from the window. I worked on my laptop while he slept with his chin on my foot, warm and heavy, like an anchor to remind me to be still.

And maybe that’s what rainy days are for.
Not to be rushed through, but to pause, to share a space, to be close without needing to do anything at all.

I used to hate the rain — the gloom, the mess, the way it ruined my schedule.
But now, when it rains, I think of soft fur, shared silence, and how just being next to someone — or some dog — can change everything.

We didn’t do much today. But somehow, today felt full.

And when the clouds cleared and light returned to the sky, he stood, stretched, and looked at me like, “Ready now?”
And I smiled. Because I was.