Thunder Is Not Just a Basketball Team

Lucy panting heavily but secure in her Thunder Jacket.

It's real.  In the background I can imagine Al Roker energetically chiming "Thunder...Thunder.." then like an echo our skies break loose with rolling thunder and daggers of lightning.  Our Lucy dog is terrified of storms so she paces, pants, whines, and cries  from the constant barrage of thunderstorms that we've been blasted with this past week.

When we can plan on approaching lightning and thunder we wrap our shaking shivering dog in her grey "Thunder Jacket."  It wraps around her tightly with a enough stretch for jumping and scratching.  It's not perfect, but it helps to relieve her storm stress, so that we don't have to drug her!

The other night we were prepared for the storm:  Lucy was wrapped in her jacket and one dim light was left on, but no anxiety drugs administered.  Long before the rain arrived Lucy whined and paced around the bedroom jumping headlong onto and over two sleeping bodies.  As a cattle dog it is her mission in life to protect us from all possible dangers, but in the case of storms she takes the duty on with terror in her bones. Her body language cries, "Storm Alert.  Storm Alert.  You might die.  I might die.  Help Me!!!"

Being a good dogie mom and a real sleepy head that night I scooted down on my side of the bed leaving room near the headboard for her to nestle.  No matter where I scooted Lucy couldn't settle, by now the house was shaking when the thunder rolled, and Lucy's panting and hot breath on our necks was wearing on us.

At last I gave up and stumbled into the front bedroom with our panting protective dog at my heels.  With one dim light on and the doors closed so she wouldn't bother Jack, I crawled into bed.  Once again Lucy girl bounded into bed with me and placed her rump on my head, not beside but on my head!  I grunted and growled then moved over giving her more room.  Not to be outdone she spread out and protected my back, all the while breathing heavily.  I wanted to laugh but instead grumbled to myself.  The storm barreled down on us jolting us both with thunder.  At last I entered a dreamy sleep, and then I felt it...something crawling slowly down my back.  As if  I'd been struck by lightning, I leaped out of bed, ripped my gown over my head and flipped on the bathroom light.  With mirrors in had, I searched my shaking body.  There in the middle of my back I spotted the tick searching frantically for a place to bite and nestle into my body.  Disgust echoed from my lungs as I plucked the tick off and dropped it in the toilet.  Drowning was the perfect death for that blood sucking creature.  Sleep to be denied!

Storms have plagued our area since the first of August, and yes, the thunder jacket helps.  Just the same, the next night I kept the anxiety pill handy just in case.

Flooding from the torrential rains, in our unseasonable August, blocked our country road.