Kids, Cats and Dogs……

Some memories stick better than others, case in point, one afternoon almost 2 years ago it rained here, yeah I know, this is the Lower Mainland, big surprise there. But it had been raining for days and no end in site. The kids were getting antsy, climbing the walls, driving me crazy, so I decided, rain or no rain; we were going for a walk to run off some of the p&v. By the time everyone was dressed, undressed and dressed again and ready to go it was raining enough that we would get wet but not soaked.

The youngest has just learned to walk so I decided to let her walk rather than push the stroller, thinking the exercise might do her some good. I'm a proponent of the tether for children. It makes life so much easier, it allows them to roam and yet gives me a handle in the event a quick pick up is necessary, ie a car.

As we leave the driveway, 2 kids on bikes, one kid toddling along on a tether attached to one wrist and a dog on a leash attached to the other wrist we are a site to behold. We barely make it two steps off the driveway when Max the cat decides he too wants to join in the fun.

Both older kids start clamouring to splash in the puddles. What heck, it's raining anyway, what difference does it make? Sure, go ahead. As I creep along the road at a toddler's pace, which is slow enough that snails blow by us, the dog takes a moment to sit down and look at me as if to say "Um, can we pick it up a pace? I haven't got all month you know!"

This is the point when Max realizes it is raining outside. Does he go dashing back to the house to get inside, no, he spends the entire trip following us, streaking from one dry spot to another meowing the entire way. This, of course, catches my toddler's attention, so she spends the entire first half of the walk walking backwards watching the cat streaking from dry spot to dry spot, mrrowing his discontent as loud as he can.

At this point the older two decide us slow pokes need to be left behind and they take off on their bikes. Not really an issue on this street, that is until they turn into specs in the distance and can longer hear me - or is that more of the childish selective hearing?

Catching their attention attracts neighbours I'm sure - thoughts of screaming fishwife flow through the brain but wayward children come splashing back to the fold, sharing streams of water. Right into the leash holding the dog, ripping my arm from my shoulder as she recoils from this sudden onslaught and I try not to flip the tethered child on her well padded behind. Talk about being stretched in the middle. A quick "oops sorry" and they're off adventuring again.

The slower than snail's pace continues for a little longer with the rain coming down in a constant barrage on my not as waterproof as I thought coat. We make it a good distance down the road, alternately between picking up the toddler who thinks puddles make good sitting spots to hollering for the adventurers to return, to the quick pickup and stop on sightings of the over numerous "CAR", all the while listening to a never ending "MMRROOWWW" (Translation: "we could be inside nice and warm you know!") It really is too bad that we can't speak cat, at least then I could've told him to go home and maybe had him listen to me.

Reaching the end of the walk and turning around to go home presented a whole new aspect. No longer content with watching the indignant cat that was now in front of us; my darling toddler decided that she wanted to pay attention to where we didn't go. Up till now, every time I let go of her hand so she could walk by herself she was content with walking with us. But, apparently, we didn't go far enough to suit her as now when I let go of her hand, she decided that the opposite direction held more interest and bee-lined a 180. Picking her up and carrying her a distance only proved to her that there must be something really interesting back there.

As we come near a house with a small dog inside, he took a sudden interest in us and while I could see him barking I couldn't hear him. The same can not be said for our dog. She could hear him, but not see him. Intent on finding him she looked everywhere but in the window of the house where he was jumping up and down on the couch. This drew the attention of the occupants of that house who for some reason had the blinds half drawn on the window. Apparently, an adult being tugged between kid and dog on a tether being followed by a cat and preceded by two kids on bikes in the rain was too much for them. Suddenly, all I could see in the window was several bodies bending down to look out from under the blinds at the spectacle in the rain.

Eventually we arrived back at home, drenched from head to toe, except for the relatively dry cat that seemed rather smug, and three kids found themselves dumped together in the bath and into bed for some mercifully quiet, quiet time.