A Rainy Day used to mean something else for us than it does now.
We walk everywhere, there was a Pup to walk several times a day and we don't love being cooped up in the apartment.
We quickly got into the habit of walking for miles every day here,.
Upon arrival we had to visit various officials for stamps here and there, letting the police know our address and getting some paper or other stamped, it was 3 years of stamping and early morning visits to dreary old buildings full of immigrants.
Pup was the constant in those days.
He had to be fed and he needed his walks.
Our schedule was his schedule or the other way around.
We were a little threesome and a happy one.
If not for Pup we would not have met so many nice people, he was that sweet friendly ambassador that made people talk to us, pet him, wave at us as we walked by and even now, people mention him to us, they miss him too.
The rooms are a bit empty, the walks seem to be missing something, the park looks different without that curly brown dog sniffing and checking on everything and everyone.
Even the homeless lady in the park who doesn't like people, liked him.
When it rained, we had to get our raincoats on, grab the umbrella and try to walk as close to the buildings as possible, keeping him as dry as we could.
We would walk him to the area under the huge tree ( a Banyon sort of tree ) where he would be completely dry while he sniffed around and did his business.
Then we would walk home where I would spend the next half hour, at least, drying him.
Poodles supposedly shed water, Pup held it.
I would throw his towel over his head, he looked like a sheik from a cartoon and off he would run, through the house, laughing and keeping just ahead of me, so I couldn't grab the towel.
(Yes, Pup laughed ,well, he smiled a really big smile )
It would all end with the two of us , resting , me tired, he all fluffy and soft and ready for another go at the towel tug of war game.
It is raining today ...