There I was, having this great dream where my dead Bob was getting chewed out by the boss for buying a box of cheap cigars to give to (who also worked at our company) to hand out to potential clients. He was also being dressed down for having a bottle of aspirin on his desk because it violated the company’s anti-. Then, just about 3:30 am…
Instinctively, I knew it was . But a few seconds after the initial “boom” we felt a hit the bedroom window. I laid there for a moment, then got up to go potty. Raven, who for some reason declines to return to the bedroom with Mom after her 1:30 am outing, almost knocked me over getting back into the bedroom. Gail asked if I was OK, I said yeah, but did you hear that thunder?
It was quiet for about five minutes and I laid there wondering if it WERE thunder, or if an airplane had crashed on approach to BWI. Then, more thunder.
Shiloh, our sweet little , fears thunder. And rain. And wind. And she has this way of letting us know she’s scared and would like to be released from Doggie Gitmo in the kitchen. She starts knocking stuff over.
This was followed by a plaintive little… “bark!”
“And the destruction of the kitchen begins,” I said. Gail, who hears as well as I walk, asked if Shiloh had begun busting up the joint and I replied in the affirmative. So, she grabbed her pillow and blanket and headed to the couch so that Shiloh could pace around the living room for awhile and then hide behind the couch.
I went back to sleep. When I got up at 6:30, I sent Gail back to bed. Where she still is.