Toad Strangler

As the weather warms up to the level of palpable humidity that defines Mississippi summers, my goal is to start talking the Loo for her daily walks early in the morning before the heat sets up shop. This plan seems perfect, except for the early morning part. Needless to say, I won't be winning any "Early Bird Gets the Worm" awards anytime soon. This morning, however, was the exception. The alarm went off, and 5:30am, I'm out the door with Lanie in tow (or maybe more accurately with myself in tow, but let's not get stuck on specifics.)

The first thing I noticed was the occasional distant flash of lightning followed by low rumbles of thunder. "No big deal," I thought. "Lanie needs to learn to handle thunder anyway." And she was fine. Then, it started to sprinkle. So, we stopped in the middle of the road while I evaluated the situation.

Lightning. Rain. Metal choke collar.

We needed to head back home. No sooner than this thought had taken shape in my mind, the bottom dropped out. Every ounce of rain the meteorologists have been teasing us with for the last week fell out of the sky. The Loo hates the rain, and I'm fairly certain had I let go of her leash she would have headed straight home, but the fear of her just heading to the first carport and refusing to budge loomed in front of me. So, we jogged home, soaked to the bone.

I think maybe that was divine intervention telling me this early morning thing should be kept for the birds.