Light drizzle. Fireball's fur is wet. He approaches me, stares, and gives a plaintive meow. Why am I allowing this? Back into the bushes to see if they're still wet. They are.

It's not that he likes rain. He despises it and will not give it the recognition of acknowledging its existence.

Out the side door to see if it's wet there too. Front door. Also wet. Cat, wetter than ever.