It stormed last night and cooled things off.
This morning, when we walked later than usual, it was very comfortable, but verging on more storm. We took a shorter route and stayed closer to home. Asia avoids wind, thunder and lightning, and rain.
At home, when things outside become raucous, Asia will go to the bedroom and hunker down there until it becomes calm again. The east side of the house is more dynamic in most storms. Many winds howl out of the east, where the mountains are, sweeping down through the foothills, where our house is, to the valley below.
We have a flue where we could have a fireplace or stovepipe on the east side of the house. It is covered on the roof with sheet metal, and during a wind storm the erratic pressure expands and contracts it, making thunderous sounds like a percussionist beating timpani. This drives Moochie — Moochie is Asia's nickname — west, to the bedroom.
Actually, Asia wanted to walk further, up the long hill to the approaching a half-million dollar houses on the northern bench that overlooks South Weber. By the time we would have made that turn to go west instead of east, the sky began to rumble and a few droplets of rain fell. Asia will balk and tugged in the direction she wants to go. She knows how to put on the brakes, planting her paws and locking her legs. She is quite strong and insistent. I am patient with her, waiting a few minutes, then talking gently and tugging her along, being careful she doesn't slip her way out of her harness.
By the time we got back to 3700 N., she was ready to get back home. The volume of the thunder combined with the frequency of raindrops contained more persuasive effect than my earlier attempts to tug and coax her.
The procedure on reaching the house doesn't very much. First of all, I dump whatever I have collected in plastic bags from Walmart in the outside garbage can. We then climb the stairs and go in the door. Asia pauses at the bottom of the stairs that go up to the living area from the living room we have entered. Sometimes she pauses on the stairs. Her pause is necessary so I can remove her leash. She then proceeds up the stairs, opens the doggie gate there and goes into the kitchen to get a drink. Sometimes if someone is up there, she might get distracted.
I put her leash away, empty my pockets of any other plastic bags I used to pick up after her and put them in the closet along with the leash.
I don't think there can be any question but that over time in Western culture women have fared better and better the more they stood up for themselves and others took their cause seriously and helped them.
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