If you were on the North Fork of Long Island around 1:15am last Saturday morning, you might have been startled by the rumbling of the longest thunder clap I have ever heard in my life. Hopefully, you weren’t frightened by it. I wasn't so lucky.
But allow me to take a step back for a moment. I’m generally not frightened by thunderstorms. I know some pups are, but I'm not one of them. I am, however, often annoyed by them. You see, thunderstorms are most noticeable at night when everything is quiet and dark and I'm trying to sleep. The loud "booms" and flashing lights often disrupts that sleep which is completely unacceptable given how much I enjoy my 40+ winks. In fact, I have even been known to give an annoyed "woof" whenever a particularly loud “boom” wakes me up; a sort of "do you mind?" statement from me to the thundercloud. My displeasure made known, I then close my eyes and go back to sleep. Simple as that.
Well, like I said, last Saturday morning's thunderclap was particularly long (it lasted for a number of seconds) and particularly loud (it woke everyone in the house including Sister who can sleep through most everything) and I did not respond to it with my usual technique. No, I had a very different reaction that night.
When I woke up to the sound of the thunder clap, I immediately went into panic mode. And I don’t mean look-around-nervously panic. No, I went into full out the-smoke-detector-went-off-and-I-need-to-grab-my-favorite-toy-and-leave-the-house panic.
For those who do not know, I take fire safety very seriously. So seriously, in fact, that as soon as that scary disembodied voice of the smoke detector says “fi-er” (or if Sister mimics it), I grab my favorite toy and begin herding my family toward the door. If my humans refuse to budge (oh, if only I was a sheep dog--I wouldn't have these problems then!), I give up on them and cry piteously at the door until someone lets me out (my kingdom for a thumb!). You know, if it wasn’t such a terrifying and exhausting ordeal, I would take my fire safety act on the road. I’m sure some fire department would pay me in plush toys and cookies to demonstration the proper way of leaving a building in an emergency.
But instead of trying to flee the house, I went for a different approach that morning. I got up, grabbed my Nylabone, and jumped up onto Ma and Pa’s bed. Standing between them, I stared at them, my eyes wide with fear and panting with distress, hoping for some guidance and comfort.
Recognizing my fear, Ma and Pa did not boot me off the bed like they normally would. Instead they tried to assure me that everything was okay. Feeling a little better (and a touch annoyed that neither Ma nor Pa got up and moved to the floor to allow me room to stretch out on the mattress), I jumped off the bed and settled down on the floor next to Ma's side. She started scratching my head which was nice, but the continued flashes of lightning from the nearby window kept me from completely settling down. After flinching at a few flashes of light, I decided to get up and seek safer lodgings. I ended up wandering over to Pa’s side of the bed which did not have an adjoining window. Determining it to be a far safer place to sleep, I laid down on the floor and permitted Pa to scratch my side for a while. Eventually I closed my eyes and fell back asleep.
