Other places spread their rain out through the whole year, but California binges its rain into a few months called Mom-Says-It-Had-Better-Stop-Soon-Or-Else season, or “mom-soon season” for short. Every year the mom-soon season overstays its welcome, and when we complain about all the rain and ruined hikes, dimwits who never play outside and get all their weather information from the internet say, “But we need the rain! It’s a drought.” These people have never had to make the decision whether to go out to go potty on a cold, rainy night, or just hold it until spring. I want to tell them to get woke, that drought is so 2016, and all the trend setters know that the new thing you’re supposed to worry about is sandslides and your wooden trail bridge falling off of a cliff because of soil erosion. What’s trending in 2019 is that rain ruins everything.
I was beginning to see where all of these drought rumors were coming from.
Because of the clouds that the Internet said were fake, it was very dark for most of our walk. By the time enough daylight to see by oozed into the sky, we were over 1000 feet above the ocean, and standing in the middle of a not-cloud that made everything look like a ghost. The air fluffed and wafted purposefully by, like poltergeist rush hour, and everything looked fuzzy, stripey and wobbly like a VHS tape. But if I kept my eyes real close to the ground, every once in awhile there would be a crack in the mountain and I could peek down it and see the tiny little buildings in high definition huddling close to the ocean down below.
Doggo hiked in imaginary rain! Doggo see poltergeists in mountains!” And each one of my collies smiled and gave me pats to tell me what a good boy I am. The second they touched my lustrous fur, they faces squished up like someone had made their latte with nonorganic skim milk by mistake. “He’s all wet,” they said. “There’s a drought. We need the rain,” I pointed out, angling by butt for better scratching.
Later that afternoon, Mom and I walked to Starbucks and my collie told us about how she had gone out to dinner the night before and had gone dancing. “I don’t know how anyone finds the time to have a life after work,” Mom said. “If I don’t go to bed by 9, I’m useless.” “I think you’re spending too much time on your phone,” my collie suggested. “Maybe you should delete social media.” But that was a silly idea. If Mom deleted my social media, then I would have no way to prove that I have a life too. I just don’t have witnesses.
Oscar the Draught Dog
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