White Dog was riding in Steve's arms; they were on the way out to the yard for a break. "You're not going out THERE," Zsofia wooed. "It is raining. Stay inside where it is dry and warm."
Steve sqinted out of the window. "The deck is not even wet. I think a few drops are evaporating before they even land."
"Doesn't mean the clouds won't open up and pour," Bailey said. "If you are smart you would just find a comfy spot and wait out the storm."
"Eleven drops does not a storm make," White Dog told her. She tilted her head to look at Steve, "Shall we? Out into the maelstrom before my need becomes a puddle."
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