I KNOW that weather reports are super boring but I just can’t stop myself. Dog agility is suspended in time for now, while we analyze the weather and try to calculate just how long we have until the water starts again. I read the radar map on the internet, and I fail.

The storms won’t stop. We even cancelled Dirt Nite, which is held in a covered horse arena. Under a rain proof roof. Mud Nite wouldn’t have even summed it up. Washed Away in Freezing Hail Nite might have.

If dogs could type, Team Small Dog probably would say that I am vile and evil and keep them locked up in the house while I go away all day to frolic naked at the Disneyland Tiki Bar to enjoy fruity cocktails and Country Bear Jamborees with Keanu Reeves. While they are subjected to the horror and torture of sleeping on a dry, landlubbing couch, chasing off the mailman and listening to the reggae station when the power is not out. The horror of it all, to be left at home when you are a go-everywhere-including-work-every-day dog.

Little do they know they are spared a flooded dog pen, falling trees, and hearing me curse all day at horses that are really so over having to patiently walk laps.

A more A-list dog trainer than I would surely come home after a day of this and work on new tricks and stimulate their dogs’ brains and so forth. Over here, on the D-list, we all sit on the couch together and if they’re lucky I’ll read them a good sentence from the book I’m reading about street punks in Las Vegas.

I know some of you have winters like this all the time. You’ve moved your weave poles into the dining room and taught your dogs synchronized tap dancing and they helped you paint the bathroom. I should hang my head in shame. Although, maybe my house is cuter than your house. But things come in waves, whether it’s the jet stream shoving the wild air across the Pacific, or teaching the dogs to sort the laundry. This week? We’ll just keep watching the skies.