Music Welcome to snoozecast, the podcast designed to help you fall asleep. Find us at snoozecast.com and if you enjoy our show, please share us with a friend. This episode is dedicated to Gwen and brought to you by a soft, bubbly sound. Tonight, we'll read a snooze cast original tale about a furry friend. After two weeks of rain showers, Olive, the family's sassy senior Jack Russell Terrier takes it upon herself to bring an end to the ongoing downpour with the help of some other city creatures. Let's get cozy. Close your eyes. Relax your body into the softness of your bed. Now take a few deep breaths. On the back, second floor would in deck of a turn of the century greystone all of weighted patiently for the elevated brown line to pass by. She didn't have to wait long, though. At this time in the early afternoon, it went by about every 10 minutes. As the familiar rumble approached, she perched on the edge of her wicker chair. Her gaze fixed towards the oncoming train. A few of the regular passengers, like Park Guy and Bakery Lady, now accustomed to the sight of the little Jack Russell Terrier watching them from her vantage point. Smiled and waived, finding comfort in the small yet consistent presence of Olive on the return of their daily commutes. Olive could tell it wouldn't be long now before the long yellow bus filled with smaller humans would stop on the corner and her favorite human would get a lead jump off as bus guy called out from the driver seat look both ways Ren as she raced up the back stairs to greet her and then they'd both go inside and have a snack. And maybe then the man would come out of his special room where he worked and joined them to eat for a bit, depending on how busy he was. It didn't seem like the man did any work whenever Olive went to check on him during the day, though.

He was always just sitting there, staring at multiple screens with squiggly lines. Sometimes he would talk to himself. The word fine and chul was used a lot in his presence, though, whatever that meant. All of Cotel, the man, like many humans, went by a half a dozen names. His included Bill, William, Billy, Dad, Honey, and Mr. Winslow. So she had decided to keep things simple and just think of him as the man. Similarly, the woman who would be home closer to dinner time also went by many names like Amelia, Millie, Ames, Mom, Darling, and Dr. Winslow. So again, Olive decided to keep things simple and just think of her as the woman. Over many years, Olive had determined that the woman worked at something called a hospital, which, as it turned out, was something like a VET.

But for humans humans instead of animals. It was difficult for Olive to imagine the humans ever needing to visit a human vet, because from her perspective, they barely seemed to age. As she waited,

Olive remembered how, when they first arrived in the neighborhood many years ago, before she started to grey around her muzzle. The constant noise of the L train passing by every few minutes used to send her into a barking frenzy. Over time, she had learned to find the rhythm in the rumble of the trains, and now it only became apparent to her if she had thought about it actively. Similarly, she too had adjusted to the relentless rain that had drenched the city for the past 12 days. That's right, it was raining still. She seemingly had to remind herself. Her keen eyes, clouded slightly with age, followed each droplet as it joined the ceaseless dance of water that

had draped the city in a silvery veil. Although Olive had adapted to the weather rather quickly, staying warm on her favorite spot on the porch with her favorite coat, a gift from Ren during the time when the family liked to put up those tiny little lights. Many humans in her neighborhood had not adapted. They peered out of their windows with furrowed brows. Their concern growing with each passing day. She reflected how the rain had started to become the focal point of every human conversation she overheard. Unyielding and uninvited, the rain had not only reshaped the daily routines of her household, but it also cast a somber mood over the entire neighborhood. The vibrant energy of the square, usually buzzing with the laughter of children and the chatter of pedestrians, had been muted. In this moment of quiet anticipation, waiting for Ren, she wondered, with a sense of determined curiosity, if there was something she could do about it, something that might bring back the sun and the smiles of her humans longing for a glimpse of clear skies. Suddenly, the deep throaty growl of an engine approached with resonant mechanical hum punctuated by the hiss of air breaks working beneath the weight of a large vehicle, the bus. Olive forgot what she was thinking about and wagged her tail in anticipation of Ren bounding up the stairs. The next morning, the man and the woman were already in the kitchen making pancakes when Olive sontered in letting out an audible yawn. Olive sniffed excitedly. If the both of them were making pancakes, it could only mean one thing. No one would be working or going to school that day or the next as well. Hello there, sleepy olive. The woman smiled. Hiya girl. The man said, bent down and rubbed her head. Why don't you go get Ren up? Olive barked in agreement and soon she bounded into Ren's room and jumped on her bed and started nuzzling her face. I'm up, I'm up." Ren said and laughed. Is it still raining all of? She asked, not expecting a response. Rain? All of that. Rain. All right, well, rain. She wasn't sure. Rennes' blackout curtains gave no hint until she pulled them aside in a dramatic fashion only to reveal the downpour, remain steady. Drat, Rennes said. Drat, all of thought, and had started to remember her determination on solving the rain problem from the day before. Pancakes are ready, the woman called, come and get them while they're hot, the man at it. Ren ran into the kitchen with olive close behind, but right before olive exited the room, she heard a tap on the bedroom window. She turned and saw it was Carl, the fox squirrel who liked to hang out in the green areas adjacent to the L, they ran parallel to East Wood Ave. Under normal circumstances, all of wood enthusiastically bark and lunge at a medium-sized rodent. Being a terrier, it was difficult not to. But unlike those skittish gray squirrels, Carl, being a fox squirrel, was naturally sweeter and more sociable and had a somewhat calming presence, difficult to believe for a squirrel I know, but it's true. As a result, the two had formed an unlikely bond. all of keeping Carl abridged as to what the humans in her neighborhood were up to, and Carl informed Olive as to what the animals in her neighborhood had been up to. After a particularly good chat one winter morning last year, Olive had told Carl he should really just try to become a pet. He had the disposition for it, and it must have been much easier food-wise than his constant scavenging. But Carl just said it would never work. Humans won't ever see us as anything other than semi-formal rats. He squeaked that day. But some humans keep rats as pets. Olive barked. But Carl just shook his head. Currently, Carl taps softly again until Olive walked over to the window where they could share a brief muffled conversation through the glass as the rain poured outside. Some weather, Carl squeaked. Well, I'm still getting my two-square, Olive barked, But it does seem to be upsetting the humans quite a bit now. I figured you'd say that. Getting a bit rough out here for squirrel kind as well. Sorry to hear that. I was just thinking yesterday I wish there was something I could do. Well, that's sort of why I'm here. Apparently there's a frog over in Wells Park who seems to have a way to stop the rain. Who says that? Everyone. Well, I'd like to be able to help, but I'm not sure if I'll be able to convince the humans to go over there. Can't you make the trip, Carl? Believe me, I'd love to. But that's great territory, you know? All I've understood. There were some chow chow's that seemed to run Winnemack Park, and it was best to avoid that place altogether. Well, thanks Carl. I'll do my best. She barked as she turned to head into the kitchen. You're the best doll of Carl squeaked out. And like that, he and his bushy chale were scrambling up the ancient oak, a formidable tree that had been present for the great railroad strike of 77, the 1933 World's Fair, and the Bull's double three-peat in the 90s. And if it could talk, it probably would have noted to the two yammering mammals that this was nothing compared to that one stretch of rain in August in 1987. But of course, trees can't talk. Breakfast had been delicious, but unfortunately the topic of conversation seemed to center around things that they wouldn't be able to do that day. It was too wet to take their bicycles out to the lakefront trail where Olive enjoyed sitting in the front basket of the man's bike, the Cubs Matinee, which was to be a dog-friendly game, and all of his first trip inside Riggly appeared to be in an indefinite reindeer lay. And most of the animals at the Lincoln Park Zoo were cloistering safely away from the elements and away from view.

When it came to indoor activities, were cloistering safely away from the elements and away from view.

When it came to indoor activities, well, there weren't many. They could bring Olive to. Plus, they had already seen the new CGI family film playing at Davis until the end of the month, the Otter Opal. school. And Ren's school had just taken a trip to the Chicago Children's Museum last week. Well, there's lots of other museums, Ren. Perhaps we could. The woman began. Who had a keen interest in fine art and had considered that perhaps in another life she might have been an old master in the Dutch golden age. But this idea was quickly shut down. We should do something with Olive today, Ren had reminded them. Olive perked up at her name, like how she always did. My buddy, by Montrose, said Wells Park had practically turned into a pond. The man offered. It might be interesting to check out. But before he could continue, Olive sprang up off of her dog bed, and in a series of movements that defied her age began to hop on alternating legs while turning in a circle. After a couple of revolutions she looked over to the family to make sure she had their attention and confirming it with the presence of their saucer-like eyes, she completed a couple of quicker twirls while her ears flapped comically as her eyes sparkled with excitement. Back on all fours, she wagged her tail enthusiastically and took turns at looking at each of them individually, hopping back and forth in a series of zesty twitches before settling into a gentle, continuous head nod while she panted. Well, I guess it settled then. The man finally said, In their best rain gear, The family stepped off the back porch and headed down-level to sunny side. Despite it being the weekend, Very few people were walking the street and there were even less cars. It wasn't long before they reached the park. Like the roads, it was practically deserted. The man's friend had been right, though. A gigantic puddle had formed near the gazebo. In fact, the whole park seemed to be surrounded by water, like a moat. Well, let's just take a break out of the rain in the gazebo for a bit, and then we'll head right back. The woman said, and the man agreed. The shelter of the gazebo provided a brief respite, but all of's concerns lay with locating the frog. Unfortunately, it became clear that the family was ready to leave. Suddenly, she heard a faint rabbit near a patch of shrubbery, not too far from the gazebo. At that moment, Olive had decided she must do something that she had never done before. When Olive noticed that Ren's grip was particularly loose, she ran swiftly down the steps and right into the shrubbery, coming out on the other end near the edge of a tree line. As she navigated through the wet grass, her attention was drawn to a peculiar sound, A series of blippy ribbits coming from a particularly large puddle shaded by a drooping willow tree. Approaching cautiously, Olive found herself face-to-face with a large glossy-eyed frog sitting contentedly on a lily pad that had somehow found its way into the makeshift pond. The frog, with its slick green skin, seemed almost regal in its composure. Olive tilted her head inquisitively. The frog, noticing Olive, began croaking unabated. Olive responded in kind with a tentative bark. The frog paused, regarded Olive with its bulging eyes, and then, in a deep, surprisingly clear voice, declared,

pray, the rain, my dear,

is simply a matter of the right dance not being danced.

I've tried my dance, but perhaps it's time for a new dance.

Olive puzzled but intrigued, decided this must be an invitation to collaborate. Having been nicely warmed up from her routine that morning, she began to mimic the frog's movements, hopping around the puddle, splashing water with her paws, twisting and turning in what she imagined was a rain-seacing dance. The frog watched its expression unreadable, then joined in with a series of elegant leaps and dives. The frog stopped and stared upwards.

A big fat raindrop plopped on his head. He opened his mouth. Oh, well, he croaked. Oh, well, Olive barked. Carl said you would know how to stop this. Carl said that. The frog smiled. Everyone liked Carl. Olive nodded. Well, I am sorry to disappoint my dear. I am aware, however, of a knowledgeable duck on the other side of the park. Perhaps he will be able to help you. At that moment, Olive saw a wren fast approaching her position and she doubled back quickly towards the other end of the park, narrowly avoiding her grasp. They'll catch up soon enough. She considered as she raced to find the duck while ignoring the family's repeated calls. At the other end, it wasn't long before Olive noticed a handful of ducks gliding gracefully across the surface of the water. Their feathers slick and shimmering under the gray sky. Olive approached the water's edge. Her gaze fixed on the ducks, who seemed so at ease amidst the downpour. the larger of the two ducks noticed olives in tree-stair and paddled closer. Water droplets cascading off its back with each stroke. Hello there, four-legged friend. Quack the duck in a friendly tone. What brings you out on such a wet day? I'll have wagged her tail and replied as best as she could, barking softly to show her friendly intentions. When she had caught the duck up to speed, the duck chuckled, a soft, bubbly sound. Ah-ha! So you'd like to stop the rain? Well, personally, I love this weather. I mean, just look at all these new ponds. Olive hung her head. Why would a duck know how to stop the rain? They love the rain. When the duck saw her sad expression, he conceded, well, I suppose even us ducks have a limit, you know. Hmm, I once heard a Mandarin say, rain is just a problem if you don't want to get wet. Olive stared at the duck as she started to question the frog's definition of knowledgeable. Right, that's the problem getting wet she barked. Right, right, the duck said, well, Rain is also about an ebb and flow, a give and a take. Maybe you need to give something to get something, like a trade? Inspired by the duck's suggestion, all of scan the surroundings, her eyes landing on a scattering of colorful leaves and pebbles near the pond. With renewed energy, she gathered the most beautiful leaves she could find, laying them out with her mouth gently and neatly by the water as an offering to whatever might be responsible for the rain. The duck watched with admiration as Oliver ranged her makeshift tribute. Well, that's a fine gift indeed. The duck quacked. Let's see what happens. A sudden wind caused the leaves to swirl in a vortex. Olive held her breath, thinking something important might be happening. But in an instant, the leaves had all fallen back to earth, unceremoniously, with no change in the weather. All of side. The duck, wishing to be of further help, pointed out that he knew of a wise creature, a couple of blocks up from the park. Artemis is what they call him, perhaps he can be of help. The name sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. Where can I find him? She asked. When the duck described Artemis' location, Olive realized he was speaking of the house just on the other side of the street from her own home.

That can't be right, she thought, but didn't have any time to consider the issue further, as she thanked the duck, and for a second time that day, a narrowly avoided rent's grasp.

As she ran from capture, this time she did clear- Mary, Mary avoided Ren's grasp.

As she ran from capture, this time she did clearly hear the man and the woman pointing out that the outing might have been too much for her, but thankfully it looked like she was heading home. While their half-right Olive thought as she raced back up Levitt

with the family following,

not far behind.

Artemis was lounging on the front porch

of the faded blue to flat,

directly across from the winds' low's gray stone. As all of approached, she noticed Artemis's impressive stature and the gentle, knowing look in his deep, set eyes. He was lying down. His massive head comfortably resting on his paws. Watching the raindrops create ripples in the numerous puddles around his home. Hello, Olive. The great Danes voice rumbled softly, as Olive trotted up the steps to his porch, taking shelter under the roof where the rain couldn't reach. Hello, Artemis. Olive barked tentatively and paused. Wait, Artemis, are you Arty? Carl told me a new family moved last month with a dog named Arty, but with all the rain, I don't think I've seen you before now. Artemis gave a nod. Indeed, I've found the humans find it necessary to provide multiple names for the same person or creature. I think that all the time, Olive agreed. Artemis noticed the leash hanging from Olive that did not have a human attached at the other end, and inquired if she was okay. Olive barked her tail of trying to stop the rain, explaining her encounters with the frog and the duck, and how she had tried dancing and leaving offerings, but nothing seemed to work?

Artemis listened intently, his tail thumping slowly on the wooden floor.

When all of finished, he nodded thoughtfully.

...