Just fifteen minutes ago, a sudden thunderstorm broke with a crash of thunder so loud it was like the air was split in two. Oh wait, I think that’s kind of what actually happened. It’s a science thing.
All three dogs and the cat convened in the bathroom. Apparently they had all read the memo about the safest place to be. It was all so sudden, I couldn’t tell who had the blanket and who had the flashlight.
The cat was having a hard time threading herself between all the dog legs, and clearly, there wasn’t enough room for me.
I’m not that great with storms any more. I used to love them–the power and the glory, so to speak. That all changed exactly 15 years ago with the May 9th flood in New Orleans.
But since there was no room for me in the bathroom, I decided to sit on the steps and watch the rain. Before I knew it, the Doberman was standing beside me. Good boy! I thought. His fear of the storm was overcome by his need to protect me. I put my arm around his neck, and then I saw that his lips were trembling. He put his head in my lap then. And I said to him, don’t be afraid. You think it’s your job to protect me, but it’s entirely the other way around.