My dogs are not fond of rainy days.
These domesticated divas and demon don’t like to get their precious little footsies wet. Even if it is not raining and it looks wet outside, they plant their feet inside the open doorway. This results in me carrying them out one by one.
In the meantime, piddle pads are down by the back door on the hardwood floor, which covers nearly the entire first floor of our house. Can’t use newspapers. They are too fun for Hope and Windy to shred when they are unsupervised.
Finding a good brand of piddle pad is a never-ending quest. Some are too flimsy. Some are leaky. Some are stinky.
Dogs are descendants from wolves, but my furkids ancestors would be ashamed of their wimpy natures.