but I like them. 

Dogs couldn’t be happier than when they are rolling in shit, but they get all butt-hurt if they get caught in a downpour.

It was only drizzling when we went out for a walk, and they found that unappealing.  I had to persuade them to go out.  The downpour started when we were half-way back.

I stopped to take a picture, and because of the rain, it took a half-dozen attempts to open my phone. Rusty is straining at the leash to get back to the house.

Sparky tries to be stoic, but I know he’s plodding along with a hangdog look on his face.

When I opened the patio door, they launched into the house like they had somewhere to go, as if I’d let a wet dog wipe his stink all over my couch.

They will remain in the solarium for now, but I did dry them with a beach towel.  Sparky doesn’t understand towels and blankets, but he trusts that I known how to dry him off.  Rusty acted like I was trying to stuff him into a sack.

They can mope around in there until they are dry.