Where's the Ark?

Yesterday, I heard a radio announcer say, "Our latest weather forecast is that it is going to rain forever."

I believe her.

There was a brief respite yesterday afternoon and Jane (8) managed to plant her garden. I would take a picture of it to show you (because it is PRECIOUS) but it is raining. Again. Endlessly. Except for a few hours yesterday.

As soon as the sun came out, the Coopers all rushed outside, including two orange tabbies and one silly cow dog. We're just desperate for a little sun. We didn't want to come back inside...ever. (Unfortunately, neither did one big fat orange cat named Thomas who spent the night outside, trying to hide from the storms. When I let him in this morning and dried him off, you wouldn't even BELIEVE the language he used.)

Anyway, I've been walking around this morning imagining myself as Noah talking to God about the Big Flood. Which I'm quite sure is blasphemous but it's been raining FOREVER and that's just the way my mind works.

"God? It's me, Noah. You there?"

"Oh, hey! Hi! How are you? Good...good. How's the weather up there?"

"Well, you know, it's raining. No, that's too mild a term for what it's doing down here. It's storming like a mother. We're talking Biblical proportions, God."

"I know that was the plan. No, no, we're doing okay. I mean, my feet haven't been dry since all this started and a large percentage of the animals are experiencing some sort of intestinal distress. The squirrels won't stay out of the birdseed...but you know, we're all surviving."

"It's just that...God? I don't want to tell you how to do your job or anything but God? The animals and I have talked it over and we all agree that forty days is just a little...well...excessive."

"No, I know you're angry. It's your creation and you have a right to be angry but I'm just saying..."

"I just think forty days is too much. We're all so depressed, God, and no one has invented anti-depressants or those lamps that make fake sunlight --or, um, well, electricity to run them. It's really dark inside the boat and I'm not one to complain, but it smells like wet dog. No, like six THOUSAND wet dogs. Spirits are really low, God. I had to stop a cow dog from leaping overboard yesterday. It's a bad day when animals are trying to take themselves out of the gene pool. Even cow dogs."

"Well, I don't know, what's it been? Ten days so far? Is the rest of the planet under water? How long do you think it will take for the floods to recede? REALLY? That long? You can't...um...speed that up a little?"

"Well, no, I understand. Unions are everywhere these days --I just thought maybe they wouldn't be in Heaven. I guess the angels have quite the lobby when they get together on something. And I know you've got other things to deal with and a new covenant with the people to draft. I'm not trying to add to your burdens."

"Maybe we could just have an afternoon of sunshine? Just to air the place out a bit? Aw, thanks, Big Guy. That'd be great."

"Also, um, God? We're out of kitty litter."