The sky opened up yesterday afternoon, and Levi immediately went into panic mode. Unlike Butch and Kadi, he wasn't afraid of the storm. Instead, despite the thunder and torrential rain, he banged against the back door and pleaded for me to let him outside -- immediately! I hesitated a moment or two, then, realizing it had been a while since he'd been outside to relieve himself, I decided to let him make a run for it.
And run he did, though clearly not for that reason. He ran as fast as he could go, his body low to the ground, feet scrabbling, on a straight path to a specific point not too far from the back fence, where he grabbed something in his teeth, then whirled around and headed just as quickly back to the house. He'd gone out in the storm to rescue his "baby," the tattered remains of what was once a stuffed pink pig.
I dried Levi with a towel when he came back in, then he watched while I towel-dried the sopping wet "baby." He's a good boy, that dog.