The soggy doggy solution

You know. It rains here in Portland.

Or at least I THINK it does.

I've witnessed just one gully-washing downpour since we moved here in September, courtesy of state's first winter storm blown in from the coast. It was impressive enough to have me believe the kitchen skylight had been breached based on a puddle of water standing on counter, which, of course, I discovered 15 minutes before I was supposed to leave for the airport.

Happy ending: The skylight remains dry and intact.

But that's about the most serious rain I've seen. Nevertheless, my friends in Bermtopia are skeptical, still wondering how we will survive the long, rainy, gray winters of western Oregon. I patiently explain the primary form precipitation Ben and I experience on our walks is a persistent, but vaguely non-committal mist punctuated by sudden and unexpected sun breaks, usually in the mid- to late afternoon. . . pretty much just as I remember from my childhood here.

This today.

And then. . .
I think we can make this work.

Sorry, my friends, I will take a daily misting and surprise sun breaks over the cold, gray winter days of Bermtopia, predictably accompanied by 6 to 8 inches of heinously hoary snow and ice that inevitably lingers into March.

Nevertheless, there is still a seasonal equation that must be dealt with: Precipitation + Canine Fur (and a fair amount of it at that) = Soggy Doggy. And the corollary -- where to put said wet pup?

In our move, we traded an attached garage, aka, The Soggy Doggy Room, for a carport, aka Not the Soggy Doggy Room. The unheated garage was a serviceable SDR, but it took FOREVER for Ben to dry. We were intrigued by possibilities of an indoor SDR.

At first, we thought the laundry room off the kitchen might serve as Ben's drying-out space, but the domestic demands of a washer and dryer trumped a wet dog's, and so we turned to the main bathroom. We are still working on restoring Ben's sensibilities as they relate to being relegated to the loo.

I'm happy to report though, as of early November, we have a routine:

1. Arrive at the back door and advance to the drying station. (Sometimes, a blow dryer is involved. This is usually proportional to the length of our walk. . . as it was in Bermtopia.)




2. Personal escort to The Lane's version of the Soggy Doggy Room.
3. Attempted escape into the guest bedroom/home office.
4. Personal escort back to the SDR.
5. Rinse and repeat.

The bathroom. Really?

Ben is adjusting, however. We are seeing fewer escape attempts -- especially as he realizes it takes half the time to get dry and rejoin humankind. Well, and an extra treat helps.

It always does, doesn't it?