Ahhhhhhhh, Thunderstorms!

I have always loved thunderstorms. I like the way they roll in. . and how you can hear them from a distance, rumble across the hill and dale. As children, my brother and I would sit on the tailgate of Dad's pickup truck and watch the clouds grow more and more ominous. The green leaves on the trees seemed to change color against the gray sky. As soon as it got nasty outside, we would go inside begrudgingly, and look thru the front window to see what damage the wind and rain would do. It should be no surprise that Jason ended up as a meteorologist.

Now as an adult, I still like storms. I like the low rumble and the ongoing crackling. The flashes of lightning that finger thru the edge of the blinds. The sound of rain against the window lulls me to sleep, only to be reawakened by the the sensation of a furry being nuzzling up underneath my pillow. No, Im not talking about Scott.

Reagan has never loved thunderstorms. In fact, I would go so far as to say she hates them. If by chance a line of severe weather were to move thru Waco during the day, she will hide in the closet or crawl up under my legs. But, if it is night time, she will jump up on the bed, creep underneath the covers and burrow her head between our pillows. She sometimes shakes a little, other times she just holds her breath and occasionally comes up for air. Its kinda sweet, if it weren't so pitiful. I swear I can hear her curse the doggie gods, wondering what she did to deserve such wrath.

Besides the discomfort it causes my dearest puppy, I still love the hear of the beep of the SuperDuperDOPPLER Tornado-meter come across the TV. My heart skips a beat, and I have to practice lamaze breathing. My season is coming!!! Sorry, Reagan.

Pet the puppy. And by "pet the puppy", I mean, "Affirm me".