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Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Thunder and lightning is frightening oh my!
Last night we were fast asleep and then about 2am...POOOWWW! We must have jumped a foot out of the bed, but mom and Betty went back to sleep—or so they wished. This storm crept up on me as I sense a storm even before it gets to this state! So I started pacing and panting and shivering like I always do during storms. Everytime there was a flash of lightning, I tried to get close to mom, but she pushed me off the bed. "Go away," she said. "If I want to be in a vibrating bed, I'll go to a cheap motel." She sounded so angry at me. She does this tough love thing with me. She doesn't sit there beside me and hover over, rub me, and tell me it's going to be okay. She knows that only reinforces my craziness, or so she says. So she leaves me alone during a thunderstorm to stand there and be miserable. It's so unfair. She showers me with love at other times. I guess because I'm being "good" at other times. But when I'm afraid, why can't she hold me and tell me it will be okay? "I've tried that Cali," she says, "but it really doesn't help you understand. I want to praise you for your good behavior." I say, "I'm upset and worried, I can't help it." I want to add, "Ms. psychologist dog behaviorist answer me that!" But I could never say that to her.

She got up and turned on the light and Betty was lying in the middle of the bed out of it. Mom was grumbling as she tried to make a cushy place for me on the floor, but it didn't work. Then she went downstairs to the kitchen and I was all in between her legs and that made her even more angry. Betty got up and followed us downstairs, she gets away with being under mom's feet even if mom trips and falls over her, she laughs it off and says, "Watch out little Betty." Geez. Then Miles comes out of his pimped up crate downstairs with a big dog bed shoved inside. He should have his name in gold-plated letters over the entrance. Poor guy, he was suffering from birthday hangover and wondered what the heck was going on. Once in the kitchen she pulled out the magic little pill box. Last year she took me to the vet during a regular checkup and talked to him about my storm problem. He said that he had a magic little pill that would calm my anxiety and make me be good so that I can somehow show myself that I can be good during a storm and then mom can pet me. Fuzzy logic at first, but it does work. He said to give it to me 30 minutes before a storm hits, she does, and it does calm me down. I don't shiver, pant, and whine. I actually do manage to sit still so that mom can enjoy the storm and me. Last night though, she didn't care about timing. When we got to the kitchen, she popped that white pill into half a hotdog bun and I swallowed it whole.

We went back upstairs and she brought another dog bed up with her and told me to lie on that. She went back to sleep, and I got out of my bed and snuck over to hers so that I could be closer and I was very still. She somehow sensed that I was near and put her hand on me to see if I was okay since I was being calm. Or maybe because I was being good.

Sweet dreams,

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Blogger agent99 said...

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Gen & the Foo

9:48 PM  

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is a site dedicated to the memory of a special chocolate lab whose nickname was "chocolate peanut"...and now we (2 frenchies and 2 shorthairs) carry on her spirit of grabbing life by the paws...check in on us often as we have a lot to say

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