The Ruffwear Sun Shower That Got Us Through Monsoon Season

The first time Pip looked at the rain and turned around, I did not blame him. It was the first week of July, the start of monsoon season in Flagstaff, and the sky had that greenish gray look that means the afternoon is about to fall out of it. Pip is an Italian Greyhound, seven years old, about thirteen pounds, with a thin short coat and no body fat to speak of. He will stand at the back door and study a puddle like it is a personal insult. That particular morning he made it two steps off the porch, felt the first drops, and spun around so fast he nearly tripped me. I had tried coaxing, I had tried a towel over his back, and I had tried just carrying him to the grass. None of it worked. So I went looking for a raincoat, and the Ruffwear Sun Shower kept coming up in every conversation.

I will be honest about my expectations. I was a school librarian for thirty years, which means I have watched a lot of people try to sell things, and I tend to assume a product will do about half of what the listing promises. The Ruffwear Sun Shower sounded good on paper: light, packable, waterproof, goes over the head, one buckle under the chest. But the real question was simpler. Would Pip walk in it? Because Pip does not do rain, and he does not do clothes that bother him, and he has made both points very clear for seven years. A coat can be a marvel of fabric and still fail the only test that matters on our street: the test at the back door.

We used it through the whole monsoon season, July to September, and it changed our mornings. That is not me being generous. That is me counting the walks. Before the coat, a rainy morning meant a very short trip to the corner and back, with Pip pressed against my ankles and giving me a look that said he was only humoring me. After the coat, the same morning meant the full loop, same as always.

Here is what the Ruffwear Sun Shower actually does, from somebody who has now made it through a whole season of afternoon thunderstorms with a thirteen pound dog.

I ordered it from the chest measurement on the size chart, the same way I had ordered his winter coat, and it fit on the first try. That alone earned it a gold star in my book, because nothing makes me crankier than a return label. I got out my sewing tape measure, the one I use for hems, wrapped it around the widest part of his chest while he stood very still and suspicious, and ordered the size the chart pointed to. It goes over his head, then one side-release buckle under the chest, and there is a leash portal on the back so I can clip the leash without fighting the fabric. No hood, which is fine. Pip would rather get a few drops on his head than wear a hood.

The first real test came on a Thursday morning when the sky opened up halfway through our loop. I do not mean a sprinkle. I mean the kind of rain that bounces off the sidewalk. We were about a third of the way around the trail, at the bend by the big pine, when it came down. One minute a few fat drops, the next a curtain. Pip did not stop, did not shake, did not give me the look. He just kept trotting, and I kept walking, and by the time we got home I was the one who needed the towel.

By the time we got home, I was the one who needed the towel.

The coat covers his back and sides but not his belly, so I will not pretend it is a full-body suit. In a heavy downpour his chest stays dry, his back stays dry, and his legs and belly get damp. On Pip, that is enough. The shivering stops, the hesitation stops, and the walk actually happens. That is the whole job. I checked his chest and back at the door every single time, and they were dry every single time. The damp bits dried in the time it took us to get through the door and into the kitchen.

I also learned what it is not. It is rain protection, not warmth. On a cold rainy morning I put a thin fleece layer underneath and the Sun Shower on top, and that combination got us through the end of September. He looked a little lumpy, like a small dog wearing a winter coat under a rain shell, but he was warm and the walk happened. The coat rinses off with the hose or a quick wipe, and it hangs to dry in about an hour. I never once put it in the washing machine, because I never needed to.

What I'd Tell You If We Were Sitting at My Kitchen Table

If we were sitting at my kitchen table with coffee, I would tell you this straight. The Ruffwear Sun Shower is not cheap, and it is not a winter coat, and it will not cover his belly. But if you have a small, thin-coated dog who refuses to go out in rain, this is the one I would buy first. It is light, it packs down small, the fit is honest, and after a full monsoon season ours still looks like new. I rinsed it, hung it up, and it shrugged off the whole season. Pip still does not love rain. But he loves his morning walk more, and that is exactly what I needed this coat to do.