What is with dogs and thunderstorms? Seriously, I need to know.
When I was growing up, our family dog was a nut case when thunder was rumbling. She was one big fat fluff of a dog -- probably weighed 55lbs but only came up to your knee. For some reason still a mystery to most of us, my mom discovered that our dog LOVED to eat frozen hot dogs. Crazy, I know... but it was just one of those things. Anyway, I digress. Our dog (aptly named Candy), would freak out when thunder was miles away (humans didn't even know it was approaching) and run for the interior hall bathroom to leap into the bath tub for safety. There she would stay, panting her little heart out and shedding mounds of hair until the lightning and thunder had past.
Flash foward to this morning at exactly 4:43am. BOOM! Okay, another thunderstorm rolling through the valley of State College. I wake up, realize what is going on and go into the kids rooms to close the windows. This stirs Ripley to walk around with me to ensure that all is safe in the house. Not really a normal occurance for the brown dog, but since Zack is out of town -- she does seem to be on alert. So I crawl back into bed and hope that the storm doesn't keep me up too long.
Then Ripley starts to pace the room. Then she is jumping up on the window sill to check out the storm. Then the yawning and panting start at the foot of my b
ed. It is freaking 5:30am and the dog is keeping me up! I start to consider just getting up and doing a yoga tape or reading and realize that is not something I would do and try to roll over. When... BOOM! CRACK! Whoosh! Yes, a nice strike of lightning and thunder boom sends Ripley jumping onto my bed (SUPER NO NO. We got a new bed back in February and she is never allowed up on it) and then she proceeds to stuff her muzzle into my armpit for safe keeping. Kinda cute, but not at 5:30 in the morning. Needless to say, I let her stay there. We both fell asleep for 45 minutes until CJ woke us both up by louding announcing:
"MOMMY! I hear a sound!!" (It was the thunder.)
When I was growing up, our family dog was a nut case when thunder was rumbling. She was one big fat fluff of a dog -- probably weighed 55lbs but only came up to your knee. For some reason still a mystery to most of us, my mom discovered that our dog LOVED to eat frozen hot dogs. Crazy, I know... but it was just one of those things. Anyway, I digress. Our dog (aptly named Candy), would freak out when thunder was miles away (humans didn't even know it was approaching) and run for the interior hall bathroom to leap into the bath tub for safety. There she would stay, panting her little heart out and shedding mounds of hair until the lightning and thunder had past.
Flash foward to this morning at exactly 4:43am. BOOM! Okay, another thunderstorm rolling through the valley of State College. I wake up, realize what is going on and go into the kids rooms to close the windows. This stirs Ripley to walk around with me to ensure that all is safe in the house. Not really a normal occurance for the brown dog, but since Zack is out of town -- she does seem to be on alert. So I crawl back into bed and hope that the storm doesn't keep me up too long.
Then Ripley starts to pace the room. Then she is jumping up on the window sill to check out the storm. Then the yawning and panting start at the foot of my b
"MOMMY! I hear a sound!!" (It was the thunder.)
1 comment:
Did you try giving Ripley a frozen hot dog? That mighta worked! :)
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