I hate him...

So Murphy is outside on the deck this morning. It's raining outside, but that should not pose a problem because much of my deck is covered by an overhang that allows man and dog alike to sit outside in a rainstorm and not get wet.

Murphy's a duck of a different color, though. He spends his time over by the rail on a section of the deck that's not protected from the elements. He's hunting cats and that's more important than staying dry, I guess.
Eventually I let in and then I go back into my office to finish an e-mail. He follows me into my office and stands in front of me and for the first time I see how wet he is. Water is beaded up all over his coat. I figure that I should go get a towel to dry him off, but before I do, I scratch his head and say: "Awww... Look at you! Who's a wet dog?"

In response, he shakes vigorously, flinging a considerable amount of water all over me, my computer, my papers, and my fresh cup of hot tea.

I hate him. I SO hate him.

Awwwww...look at you! Who's a wet human?