...the logic of Bingo standing in the pouring rain - rain coming down so hard that each bullet-like drop bounced back up again about ten feet - staring at me with big sad eyes and tail between his legs because he doesn't like being out in the rain, but refusing to do the one thing - a "pooh-pooh" that'd be - that would get us out of it?
I mean, it isn't as though he doesn't KNOW. He KNEW what he needed to do and he was miserable and wet and he wanted to go home, he really did, but he flat out refused to do a pooh. 25 flipping minutes he dragged it out, before he finally conceded, by which time the rain was coming down even harder, it was so dark I could barely see and we were both utterly drenched.
So Where's the logic?
Anyone?
Alice x
PS: turns out that in torrential rain, waterproof ponchos are useless.
Good to know.
PPS: turns out that we have developed a leak in the outhouse/music corridor.
Also good to know.
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