Riley prefers rolling in sunny park grass. It’s illegal for dogs to walk on all the lawns on the Chelsea piers, and men in blue coats will actually ticket you if they catch you. We think that’s bogus (I understand not wanting them to trample on and destroy it, and I absolutely support not allowing them to eliminate on it since that’s unsanitary for people and children, but an innocent roll or two? It’s not like they’re carrying Ebola!), so he still gets his chlorophyll fix when we’re feeling rebellious.
Murphy and Riley are famous for hating precipitation. Murphy covers himself with his blanket and hides. They both try to get away with a quick tinkle and then point emphatically back at the door. Murphy’s sideways glare and strong-arm sum it up.