White Dog and the others were crowded around in the office and spilled out like my memories of school children during a tornado drill back in Illinois. The house shook from the vicious gales hurtling through the mountain pass and slamming into the bowl that shelters most of Albuquerque. Every pup was nervous at the noise, motion, and flickering lights.
It started out innocently in the late morning with a light breeze tinkling the chimes in a festive early summer morning. We all enjoyed the background music as we went about napping, working, patrolling the yard.
Then came the gusts and the music began to reflect the day's crazy politics. The chimes clanged and the window coverings snapped and then all dropped to silence before ramping up again.The cycling time got faster and faster until it was no longer music we heard but a jarring cacophony.
By late afternoon it sounded like hordes of demons attacking and the White Dog Army retreated to small spaces protected from the outside, without even a view. If we were in an ocean movie, waves would be crashing over the deck threatening to sweep us all to the deeps. Fortunately, there was no water or rain to lash; we were dry.
We knew we would be safer together and all had the same concern for Steve, who was at work. "We hope he has a pack to move tightly against."
When he called a while later, on his way home, the first thing he said was, "how about the wind?" We all sighed a "hurry home."
The winds shifted as twilight came and we had a brief break in which to have dinner and after dinner trips out.
As it becomes truly dark it sounds as though the winds are trying to remuster their efforts. The WDA is cautiously watching and listening but are not yet concerned enough to give up favorite pre-bedtime nap spots.
Let us hope Mother Nature is kind enough to hold off unleashing the fury until AFTER walk time.