"Petunia, it's a dog!"
The news spread through The Family like wildfire causing widespread consternation. Even gentle Joy remonstrated very gently... "Ma'am... he cannot come downstairs even when it rains, Ma'am?" and then her eyes spoke volumes of disapproval and disappointment. I knew better than to quarrel with The Husband over this but I did try some reverse psychology.
"Ummm... would you prefer that we get rid of Milo then?" I said somewhat sulkily. I had hoped that The Husband would realise that he loved Milo after all (for I know that he does love Milo), and would reconsider his decision. But The Husband was not to be moved.
"You know very well that that is not an option. We are not getting rid of him because he's our dog. We'll have him stay outside until the new house is ready and he can run in the garden. Petunia, dogs are not supposed to come into the house. When I lived in my kampong, the dogs stayed outside in rain or shine."
So, we've put up this really ugly groundsheet rather haphazardly over his kennel, and attached it to the iron grilles... and no matter how hard Milo begs, he has to stay dry inside his kennel whilst the groundsheet prevents excess raindrops from splashing into his dry little hole.
But that does not prevent Milo from staring at me in mute silence with eyes drowning in misery whilst I sit in my study to work. Oh I wish that the new house would be ready soon.
It doesn't help that up high in a penthouse, the winds howl like banshees at a party... On one occasion, the winds toppled the trellises AND the 3m frangipani tree!! Poor little Milo presently looks like the Little Match Stick Girl in his kennel under the flimsy groundsheet.