We always need rain, but I like it spaced out a little bit more. Yesterday afternoon, at my house, we had quarter-sized hail and driving rain, booming thunder and lightning. All the streets in the neighborhood were rushing water curb to curb. At my office, two miles from the house, there wasn’t even a damp sidewalk. That’s how rain happens in the desert.
A major have/have-not comparison arises between those who enjoyed today’s downpour and those who received no precipitation. Lest you think that we are intellectually shallow, I’ll tell you that I returned to the office last night (in the downpour) to host a clandestine group that is working to defeat yet another mandatory spay/neuter ordinance. Dog people don’t seem to have lots of money to pour into lobbyists and advertising, while the animal rights folks have over-flowing coffers. So, we must be more astute and more persuasive.
What do rainy days and the animal rights movement have in common? I think both can be pretty darned depressing in large doses, and both leave unpleasant puddles to mop up.