October 30, 2018

White Dog, like the rest of us, jumped at the huge crash and blinding flash of light which was immediately followed by the sounds of howling wind and lashing rain. Suddenly, dinner was secondary in focus...and poor Bailey clawed to be let in from the sun porch where she dines.

None of us noticed the signs of a storm approaching. The skies were clear and air still when Steve got home from work. An hour later...BAM!

We moved dinner bowls to form half circles around Steve and myself so that we could feel the security of being together as we finished up our meal. And then we clung together, touching, as the branches scraped walls and a steady stream of water noisily hosed at the windows. Even Nilla, normally oblivious of storms, wanted to be held.

And so it went well past bedtime. Night-night walks were cancelled. We watched a bit of television just to distract the pack from what was making them uneasy. We left soft gentle music playing on the stereo in the living room; it could be faintly heard where the White Dogs sleep and provided soothing reassurance as white noise.

As I woke periodically across the night, I heard it raining still. "Don't worry, my loves. It is just a silly commotion. You are all safe, dry and protected. Rest without fear," I whispered into the darkness.