White Dog came rushing into the office, followed by YoYoMa and Storm...and the rolling deep sound of thunder. Sachi, Nilla, and Bella were already hunkered down. Puff slept deeply on her mattress. Zsofia and Ferguson were jostling each other to get into the hallway.
The fury broke minutes before Steve called on his way home from late night class. "Wow! It is like a hurricane out here," he reported. "I am going to take local roads instead of the expressway. See you as soon as I can."
Of course, the White Dog Army and I already KNEW the conditions. We could hear the crashes and bangs that sounded like explosions. The ferocious lightening display lit up the office like a strobe light which made even Yo flinch from the intensity. The rain pounded at the windows and hammered against the swamp cooler on the roof and made the tree limbs creak.
Zsofia stood in the bedroom with her head under the lifted dog door flap, watching the storm. She came back to periodically report that the water was rolling down the ramp and that the flower pots had become waterfalls.
The sound of the van pulling into the driveway called the White Dogs from safety at my side to the front door to check on Steve. He was greeted with wags and joy over his safe return.
"Sorry, babies," he told them, "I do not think there will be walks tonight. It is miserable out there and the street is running like a river." "Why does it always choose NOW to pour?" White Dog demanded. "Just half an hour for walks and then it could rain all night."
"I am afraid we must listen for a slight break and run out to the yard to take care of business. And then right back in. Skye, Daisy and Kandy probably are desperate to go out since Candace left for work so long ago. Anyone else want to brave the storm with me?"
Ferguson and Zsofia, Steve's shadows, volunteered wthout pause. Puff had no choice as Steve swept her up. "Come on, old girl. I know you need a break." They dashed out as far as the covered deck while Steve let the girls out of the Studio. In no time every pup was back indoors, shaking cutains of raindrops across the room.
"Nope, no walks tonight." White Dog decreed.