With L.A. receiving as much rain this past week as it normally does in an entire year, I've learned first hand that people here have zero propensity for handling the rain. They run for cover at the first descending drop, gather provisions and bravely huddle in front of TiVo'ed episodes of TMZ to ride out the atrocity.
I knew it was tough for some people - a friend around the corner in a basement 1 bedroom watched the sewer line back up and present itself 3" deep throughout her place. Management says the other 105" of air space are fine and 98% dry should be good enough for her.
My friend James, who is an 'urban camper' had to scramble to higher ground as the bridge-side location he frequents became a solid runoff stream. Five tough days for him and at least a few more to come.
The real horror of the rains and their destructive effects didn't hit home until today - at the dog park. After 30 min of good clean fun, Jasper decided that the best way to interact with the other dogs was to run for the one mud spot in the park and roll flat on his back - then writhe around upside down while other dogs bit his neck and other assorted parts. It was quite possibly some caninish-spiritual rite of atonement but I couldn't quite make out the deeper meaning - though I'm sure there was one.
Some deeper-doggie meaning is the only way I can justify the two hours of wash, rinse and repeat that followed. I've just now made it to the point of having a passably clean dog and a completely filthy apartment.
When, oh when, will these devil rains cease!
I'd go outside and shake my fist toward the heavens, but I'm braced for the throes of our current light sprinkle. And besides, there's a fresh TMZ on pause.
Looks great outside and on the new Pergo!
3 comments:
When ever I see your dog I cringe at the thought of keeping it clean. I do feel bad for you.
Looks like he had a great time.
Oh, yes. He had a great time. It was almost worth the trouble! ;-)
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