Rainy Days and Solitude

There is something universally consoling about the kind of rainy day that makes all the decisions for you.

The kind of rain that does not permit safe passage. Does not allow the outdoors to be anything more than a backdrop. The kind that measures the dogs bathroom needs by a stopwatch.

Today, god-granted, is one of these days.

Raffles

It is screaming rain in torrents. The house is my refuge and even unto this, my old stone manor, I am forced to check the corners, crevices, and crawl spaces for ingress. Nature, that Queen who fates us all, takes her time but always finds her way in. This house has been here for 200 years, and still her roots get washed every spring and fall. 

I am expected at the vet clinic soon. I had been trying to ignore my phone as it flashes the latest queries about my arrival time for the newly requested cases that never abate. The rain seems to insulate and buffer but it doesn't provide refrain from the rest of the pet world with their vomiting, diarrhea, and urinary blockages. Much to my dismay, and even with the fierceness of this wailing water, I can hide but I cannot evade. Biology might be the engine to nature, but Mother Nature will always be the dictator.

Magpie, Storm, Frippie

The cats have decided to nap the morning away. They take small eye opening breaks to peak out the windows, but return to their spots of sleep as the only souls around here who truly never care what day of the week it is, nor how much their parents have on their endless to-do-lists. I know how lucky they are to be here. Safe, warm, well-fed and beloved. For so many I see it has never been anything they know or can imagine. Even as I remain begrudgingly reluctant to face my impending day I am grateful for them and their care-free existence.

Nature reminds us that we are small, meek and transient. Just like the rain I will be a force today and quietly settled at home for a day off tomorrow. For now, it's time to pack up. Tell the cats that I hope they feel fiercely independent to make whatever decisions their heart desires, and to the dogs that maybe they can muster their primitive selves just long enough to remember to pee outside even if it means getting your paws wet. They seem to lack trust in me that they won't have to remain there long. I won't shut the door behind them. And, so I go out just to get battered by the rain as a small sacrifice that we are in this together.