Emmy is a German Shepherd mix, the mix being something small, floppy-eared, and no more a water dog than a German is. She is also crate-trained, and her crate (which is much too big for her) sits immediately to the right of the back door. Chad has a picture, complete with mangled literary reference.
This morning, a summer thunderstorm was pouring down rain when we got up. I let her out back, in case she needed to go to the bathroom that badly. She didn't, I let her in—and she went directly into her crate and curled up in a little ball at the very very back.
I asked her a magic question ("Are you hungry?", which usually gets her running from anywhere in the house) and put down her breakfast. She stayed curled up in a little ball at the very very back of her crate. I tossed a treat in her bowl, and she came out to eat. When she finished eating—right back in her crate.
I made my own breakfast before our morning walk, instead of after, hoping the storm would pass. Normally she'd be around my feet as I buttered my toast, hoping I'd drop some; lying at my feet while I ate, hoping I'd drop some; and snuffling for crumbs on my chair after I finished. (She likes toast.) Today, she stayed curled up in a little ball at the very very back of her crate.
I coaxed her out by talking to her, rubbed her ears, and told her that she was a good dog and the rain had stopped. (It had. I wouldn't lie to her.) She wagged her tail and snuffled for toast crumbs . . . until she saw me getting my rain gear. Then she went and sat behind the farthest corner of the dining room table. When I asked her another magic question—"Do you want to go for a walk?"—she went directly into her crate and curled up in a little ball at the very very back.
I tried to coax her out again. She wagged her tail just a little and rolled slightly onto her side—either to show her belly, or to make it harder for me to get at her collar, I'm not sure. What she did not do, was move.
I sighed. I checked the window to confirm that the rain really had stopped. Then I crawled into the crate and clipped the leash onto her collar.
Once I did that, she reluctantly got up and suffered herself to be taken outdoors. And we had a very nice walk.
But boy, does she hate the rain.