The windows blazed with lightening and thunder chortled at the rain slamming against the house as the WDA found places, backs turned from the outside, where we could connect into the safety net of our pack. There was panting for a bit as we reassured that we were safe, dry, together, had full bellies and each other.
It is interesting to me how this configuration of the White Dog Army has its own unique pattern. We have evolved into a pack that physically comes together in times of trouble. Even Roman our feral boy finds comfort in being with all of us. Some, like White Dog and Pearl, share WD's mattress together. Bella and Opal press butt-to-butt next to my leg. Bailey huddles as far back in the open crate as she can get. Tiz nests up his blanket and crawls into for cover. Zsofia lays against the back of Steve's chair and Roman wants to be close enough to touch, but not touch, at my side. In those spots we can ride out whatever nature throws at us.
Gentle music and a "business as usual" attitude from Steve and I encourages all to relax. When eyes start to get heavy despite the noise, I know White Dog Army magic has covered us all in a sense of security and love.
And it makes me smile.
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