Nothing much happens: bedtime stories to help you sleep - Raining Cats and Dogs

Episode Date: August 15, 2022

Our story tonight is called Raining Cats and Dogs and it’s a story about a playdate for a few furry friends. It’s also about someone’s first trip to the groomers, lightning flashing through the curtains, and looking out at the rain as a kitty purrs in your arms. Order the book now! Get our ad-free and bonus episodes.Purchase Our Book: https://bit.ly/Nothing-Much-HappensSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Welcome to Bedtime Stories for Grownups, but also for kids, and really, for everyone, in which nothing much happens. You feel good, and then you fall asleep. I'm Catherine Nicolai. I write and read all the stories you hear on Nothing Much Happens with audio engineering by Bob Wittersheim. You can get your very own With Audio Engineering by Bob Wittersheim hoodie if you know, you know.

We've also got pencils, stickers, water bottles, and tumblers that remind you to breathe in and out, to think of three good things, and that you have done enough for today. It's all at nothingmuchappens.com. Now, all that is needed from you is listening. Listen to my voice and the simple story I have to share. And soon, you'll be relaxed and sleeping.

I'll read it twice, and I'll go a little slower the second time through. If you wake in the night, don't hesitate to turn this right back on. With time, hearing just a few words in my voice will become a cue to relax, feel safe, and sleep. Okay, lights out, devices down. Fluff your pillow and slide down into your sheets. Anything that's still weighing on your mind, give it to me. Go on, hand it over.

Okay, I've got it now. I'll keep track of things. You sleep. Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth. Just as deep, breathe in and sigh. Good. Our story tonight is called Raining Cats and Dogs, and it's a story about a play date for a few furry friends.

It's also about someone's first trip to the groomers, lightning flashing through the curtains, and looking out at the rain as a kitty purrs in your arms. Raining cats and dogs. We'd been planning a play date for a while. My orange kitty marmalade. little brown dog crumb and their good friend bluebird who we all called birdie a gentle greyhound who'd been visiting ever since Marmee was a kitten. We'd planned on tossing tennis balls and frisbees in the backyard for the dogs and letting Marmalade sunbathe on my lap in her harness, something she begrudgingly allowed me to put on her,

only because she knew it meant spending time on the patio, clicking her teeth at the birds. We'd planned on a cookout with Birdie's dad's secret recipe potato salad and grilled corn and other goodies. We'd thought we could take the dogs for a long walk, maybe fill up a kiddie pool for them to splash through.

But this morning, while we were still curled up in bed, we'd heard the crack of thunder and the tattoo of rain beating down all around us. Crumb didn't much like storms, and he'd burrowed deeper under the covers. Marmalade, who, for all her pretended annoyance at her little brother, was still a mother hen to him, meowed until I lifted the blanket so she could curl up beside him. We laid there for a while, just listening to the rain, and I wondered

what would become of our playdate. Crumb had been to the groomers for the first time a few days before, getting spiffed up to see his friend. It was still the year of firsts for us, so I didn't know what he'd think of it. But when I'd pushed open the door to the groomer, he'd stepped right in, curious and confident, and had been a very good boy for them. When I picked him up, I couldn't help but laugh.

His spiky brown fur was a soft fuzz. His paws were neat and his ears were trimmed up and tidy. He grinned at me with his lips stuck on his snaggle tooth and looked so proud with a summertime bandana tied around his neck. It reminded me of my nephew's second grade picture, which was stuck to the front of my fridge. He'd picked out his own outfit on picture day, which was creative and goofy, and his hair stuck up at the back,

but he'd just been happy to have his picture taken. There was a definite resemblance between the two of them. When we'd come home, Marmalade dropped lazily off her perch by the window and circled Crumb a time or two, appraising his new look, then walked away knowing he would chase her. She was often too cool for school, but Crumb wasn't. He loved her and wanted to sit next to her, eat next to her, snuggle, and nap together.

She mostly allowed it, all while pretending she couldn't care less. But I'd seen her, the day Crumb got a burr stuck in his paw. He'd only cried out once and sat on my lap to let me take it out and clean up the boo-boo. But Marmee had rushed in at the sound of his squeak, her eyes wide with worry. She'd sat with him and cleaned his face after he'd been patched up. And he laid, a bit woe is me, and drunk up every bit of her attention. As the rain came down and another flash of lightning sparked through the curtains, I rested my hand on the little lumps in the blanket that were crumb and marmalade.

What'll we do about our play date? I asked them. They didn't answer. It's raining cats and dogs, I laughed. Get it? They didn't answer. Well, I thought it was funny, I said into the darkness. I reached for my phone, thinking I would text my joke to my friend, Bertie's dad, but found that he had texted me only a minute before. It said, It's raining, cats and dogs. See, I said, it is funny.

They didn't move. I let them sleep in and snuck out to make my coffee and check the forecast. By the time I was standing in my robe by the back door with my cup in hand, Crum had come down and was considering sneaking into the yard for a quick trip. The lightning had stopped, but the rain was still coming down. I cracked the door open, and he tiptoed out onto the closest corner of grass to attend to his morning business, then came right back in.

He got a treat and carried it over to his bed to enjoy it. I topped up my coffee and shuffled about, filling their breakfast bowls and putting out fresh water. The forecast called for more rain, more storms, all day long. Marmalade strolled into the kitchen and wove through my ankles. I put a couple slices of bread into the toaster and pushed down the lever, then scooped her up into my arms and carried her over to the window.

She leaned into me as she looked out at the dripping branches and gray sky. Her purr was loud, and I thought of the first time I'd ever heard was a purr in cursive. A purr with exclamation marks. That day when I'd first seen tiny paw prints in the snow and set up a box for her to warm in, hopeful that she'd let me take her inside. I'd tried to play it cool,

but I'd had a feeling right away. It was the same feeling when I'd seen Crum's adoption picture in the paper. I just knew we were family who hadn't met yet. Luckily, on that snowy day, she decided to skip the box and blanket and come right to the door. We'd been staring out of windows together ever since. I turned and walked us back into the kitchen,

just as the toast came popping out of the toaster, and we both jumped. I laughed and set Marmalade down in front of her bowl. I liked our morning routines. Just as I was spreading peanut butter onto my toast, I heard my phone buzz in my pocket. I carried it with my plate over to the kitchen table. Well, said my friend, we could cancel, but Bluebird was really excited to spend time with Crum and Marmie today.

And the potato salad is already made. Movies on the couch instead. Crum stopped eating for a second as I called out to him. Movies on the couch with Bertie? He did a couple zoomy circles by his bowl, which I took as, yes, please. I smiled at my screen as I typed in my answer. Fine. Twist my arm.

Raining. Cats and dogs. We'd been planning a playdate for a while. My orange kitty Marmalade, my little brown dog, Crumb, and their good friend, Bluebird, who we all called Birdie, a gentle greyhound who'd been visiting ever since Marmee was a kitten. We'd planned on tossing tennis balls and frisbees in the backyard for the dogs and letting marmalade sunbathe on my lap in her harness. Something she begrudgingly allowed me to put on her,

only because she knew it meant spending time on the patio, clicking her teeth at the birds. We'd planned on a cookout with Birdie's dad's secret recipe potato salad and grilled corn and other goodies. We thought we could take the dogs for a long walk. Maybe fill up a kiddie pool for them to splash through. But this morning, while we were still curled up in bed, We'd heard the crack of thunder and the tattoo of rain beating down all around us. Crumb didn't much like storms, and he'd burrowed deeper under the covers. Marmalade, who, for all her pretended annoyance at her little brother,

was still a mother hen to him, meowed till I lifted the blanket so she could curl up beside him. We laid there for a while, just listening to the rain, and I wondered what would become of our playdate. Crumb had been to the groomers for the first time a few days before. Getting spiffed up to see his friend. It was still the year of firsts for us, so I didn't know what he'd think of it. But when I'd pushed open the door to the groomer,

he'd stepped right in. Curious and confident, and I'd been a very good boy for them. When I picked him up, I couldn't help but laugh. His spiky brown fur was a soft fuzz. His paws were neat, and his ears were trimmed up and tidy. He grinned at me with his lip stuck on his snaggle tooth

and looked so proud with a summertime bandana tied around his neck. It reminded me of my nephew's second-grade picture, which was stuck to the front of my fridge. He'd picked out his own outfit for picture day, which was goofy and creative, and his hair stuck up at the back, but he'd just been happy to have his picture taken. There was a definite resemblance between the two of them. When we'd come home, Marmalade dropped lazily off her perch by the window,

encircled Crumb a time or two, appraising his new look, then walked away, knowing he would chase her. She was, often, too cool for school. But Crumb wasn't. He loved her and wanted to sit next to her, eat next to her, snuggle and nap together. She mostly allowed it, all while pretending she couldn't care less. But I'd seen her, the day crumb, got a burr stuck in his paw. He'd only cried out once and sat on my lap to let me take it out and clean up the boo-boo. But Marmee had rushed in

at the sound of his squeak her eyes wide with worry she'd sat with him and cleaned his face after he'd been patched up and he'd laid a bit, woe is me, and drunk up every bit of her attention.

As the rain came down, and another flash of lightning sparked through the curtains. I rested my hand on the little lumps in the blanket that were crumb and marmalade. What'll we do about our play date? I asked them. They didn't answer. It's raining cats and dogs, I laughed. Get it? They didn't answer. Well, I thought it was funny, I said into the darkness.

I reached for my phone, thinking I would text my joke to my friend, Bertie's dad, but found that he had texted me only a minute before. It said, it's raining, cats they didn't move. I let them sleep in and snuck out to make my coffee and check the forecast. By the time I was standing in my robe by the back door with a cup in hand. Crumb had come down and was considering sneaking out into the yard for a quick trip. The lightning had stopped, but the rain was still coming down. I cracked the door

open and he tiptoed out onto the closest corner of grass to attend to his morning business, then came straight back in. He got a treat and carried it over to his bed to enjoy it. I topped up my coffee and shuffled about, filling their breakfast bowls and putting out fresh water. The forecast called for more rain, more storms all day long. Marmalade strolled into the kitchen and wove through my ankles. I put a couple slices of bread into the toaster and pushed down the lever, then scooped her up into my arms and carried her over to the window. She leaned into me as we looked out at the dripping branches and gray sky.

Her purr was loud, and I thought of the first time I'd ever heard it and smiled. It was a purr in cursive. A purr with exclamation marks. That day when I'd first seen tiny paw prints in the snow, and set up a box for her to warm in, hopeful that she'd let me take her inside. I'd tried to play it cool,

but I'd had a feeling right away, and it was the same when I'd seen Crum's adoption picture in the paper. I just knew we were family who hadn't met yet. Luckily, on that snowy day, she'd decided to skip the box and blanket and come right to the door. We'd been staring out of windows together ever since.

I turned and walked us back into the kitchen just as the toast came popping out of the toaster and we both jumped. I laughed and set Marmalade down in front of her bowl. I liked our morning routines. Just as I was spreading peanut butter onto my toast. I heard my phone buzz in my pocket.

I carried it with my plate over to the kitchen table. Well, said my friend, we could cancel, but Bluebird was really excited to spend time with Crumb and Marmie today, and the potato salad is already made. Movies on the couch instead? Crumb stopped eating for a second as I called out to him. Movies on the couch with Bertie?

He did a couple zoomy circles by his bowl, which I took as, yes please. I smiled at the screen as I typed in my answer. Fine, twist my arm. Sweet dreams.