Can somebody please tell me what’s wrong with my mama?
The other night we had a hugemongous storm, complete with:
- somebody taking flash pictures outside the window
- somebody rolling immense stone boulders down the street
- and about 1,000 cows peeing on the roof
To tell you the truth, I was scared.
But mama wasn’t. She told me we were having a bad storm but were safe inside.
Then she rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.
Tried, being the key word.
Because of course I wasn’t about to let her sleep.
I paced back and forth. I whimpered. And when all else failed, I laid my head on her bed, looked her in the eye, and started making chewing noises.
Mama covered me with her sheet, but I still wasn’t happy.
Didn’t she see those flashes? Didn’t she hear those booms?
Who could sleep with all that going on?
Eventually, mama told me I was going to have to go into my “dog cave” if I didn’t settle down.
My dog cave is my crate, and I don’t mind being in it at all.
In fact, I feel very safe there, and a part of me wanted that.
(The other part wanted to protect my mama!)
When I refused to settle, mama jumped out of bed and raced down the stairs, with me at her heels.
Oh, boy, I thought. She’s finally going to let me outside so I can chase that storm away, streaking across the back yard like a furry bullet and barking to alert the neighbors.
Because they’re probably sleeping, just like mama.
But no, she scooped me up and put me in my cave. And told me to go to sleep.
Which I did.
And while I wasn’t happy being apart from my mama, I couldn’t help noticing I’d succeeded. The storm went away, and mama was safe.
Still, I’m worried about her.
She doesn’t seem fazed by wicked weather, though she curls up into a ball and covers her head with the blanket.
Do you think she’s putting on a brave act, just for me??