Nemo and I were watching television last night (well, I was watching a nature video and reading; Nemo was sort of doing neither) when, with no warning, directly over the house, came a loud CRASH. I looked at my suddenly alert dog. “Was that thunder?”
“Dumb question,” he said. “What else?”
And, that was the first inkling we had that a thunderstorm was upon us. More booms and the sudden sound of a downpour. Rain and more rain.
Nemo is not a fan of thunderstorms. Nothing helps; not the thunder shirt, not the calming spray that’s supposed to smell like his mother, not even a calmer-downer pill. He paced, and paced and looked miserable. No amount of petting or assurances would help. Finally, what he considers his safe place–a bedroom with the door closed. He settled down. I settled down and enjoyed the rain.
This morning, trees, grass, and flowers have that newly-washed look. Nemo has had breakfast and is catching up on his beauty sleep. A new day. More storms? Heh-heh-heh. Only the Shadows knows!
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