Deadbolts

“You're not sugar,” I tell the work dogs impatiently, “You won't melt. Get your butts out there or there'll be no supper!”

All four look at me with more pitiful-ness than I'd have believed possible. They tuck their tails between their legs and back away from the open door as if the lightly falling rain was laced with some toxic substance.

“It's just plain, old, ordinary rain,” I tell them and give each a gentle but firm swat on their hindquarters, “Don't be such wusses!”

“OUTSIDE!” I finally yell in frustration. I ignore the Dead Man Walking look I get from the old pit and shove him down the stairs then snatch up the little chihuahua and carry her out. The cur dog and the little pit mix follow albeit reluctantly. I am resolute, ignoring their identical expressions of pained resentment and refusing to be drawn into this miserable pity party.

“Useless damn dogs,” I mutter under my breath, “I never saw the like of such useless animals.”

Amazingly enough, all four manage to pee before nearly running me down in their haste to get back inside. They wolf down their dogfood like their throats have been cut and then we go through the whole routine one more time. Cursing the rain, the dog sitter who never showed or called and life in general, I clean up after them, turn on the lights and leave them to their own devices.

The midnight run is a little easier since there's no food involved. They're glad to see me and they trot outside obediently enough. I sit on the back steps and smoke, grateful for the break in the rain and the still warm-ish weather.

The next trip is high adventure.

I pull into the driveway only to see the far front door wide open and the cur dog lying across the threshold, casually watching the world go by. When he sees it's me, he stretches lazily and strolls slowly onto the porch, so unconcerned that he doesn't even bark. I slam the car into park and race for the door, terrified of finding the other three missing but as soon as I'm inside, they all appear, greeting me calmly and I suspect, not understanding my panic. There's no sign of any kind of forced entry and nothing is out of place or damaged so all I can think, unlikley as it sounds, is that the afternoon's rain or wind was strong enough to push open a locked door.

Note to self:  Deadbolts.