Published: August 19, 2009 08:45 am      

Thunderstorms bring out worst in dog

There are some things in life you can never plan on. One of them is having a dog who is deathly afraid of thunderstorms. I just cringe when I hear a weather report and the meteorologist forecasts evening thunderstorms with heavy rain and lightning. For some reason these storms always erupt around the magical hour of midnight. Why can’t they break loose around 6:30 or 7 p.m.? Then maybe I could actually get some sleep.

There aren’t enough words in the English language to calm my dog. Cordy starts panting uncontrollably and her tail gets pinned back so far beneath her tummy that I can’t tell that she even has a tail anymore. I have tried telling her that the angels are just bowling in heaven. Even though that story worked on me as a kid, Cordy doesn’t buy it.

When it starts to thunder, Cordy’s eyes start to bug out like huge saucers. This cute, small version of Lassie starts looking a little bit like Rodney Dangerfield.

This is only the tip of the iceberg. Cordy tries to desperately get behind every piece of furniture in my house — my couch, bed, night stand, doors, etc. There is no consoling her. She also likes to jump up on the couch with me, which is better than destroying my furniture.

And then there are those nights when the clouds finally decide to break loose at midnight. The other night was one of those times. It was 12:30 a.m. and I had been sleeping soundly for 31⁄2 hours and then it was all over in a blink of an eye. All of the sudden I heard a loud boom and someone breathing heavily a few inches from my face. I just adore Cordy, but just not her breath. Someone really needs to make breath mints for dogs — please.

Unlike most nights, I did thank Cordy for her alarm because I had left my chicken house windows open. At that moment I yelled, “Oh, no!” and flew out of bed. I didn’t even stop to change my clothes or grab a bathrobe — my girls needed me. I ran out into the kitchen with the pitter patter of little feet behind me, laced up my running shoes and headed for the door. I know Cordy was thinking “please don’t leave me here alone.” I threw on the light switch to my backyard and ran as fast as I could in my not-so stylish nightgown straight to my chicken house. I slammed both windows shut just as rain drops started falling. When I got back into the garage, the clouds let loose like a monsoon.

Boy, the lengths I will go to for my girls. One minute I’m chasing an unruly hen around my yard to get her back in the coop and then I’m running outside in my nighty. I am really going to push for being named “Chicken Mother of the Year.”

When I opened up the door to go back into the house, Cordy was right there waiting for me — panting excessively. As I crawled back into bed, I tried to console Cordy but that didn’t work. So, I reached for a sedative that my vet prescribes for her. Unfortunately, we only had a quarter of a pill left and that just didn’t cut the mustard so to say. So from 12:30 a.m. and off and on until 2:30 a.m., Cordy and I were up. Where is the dog whisperer when you need him? My poor old darlin’ just couldn’t understand that it was not the end of the world.

When the thunder and lightning finally subsided, Cordy and I did get some sleep. For me it was only 90 more minutes. As I was leaving for work, Cordy crawled back into bed. In the back of my mind, that is where I wanted to go.

I hate to say this but I am looking forward to fall and winter just so Cordy and I can get an uninterrupted night’s sleep. I am glad my chickens don’t get freaked out by thunderstorms. Can you picture me trying to console 27 hens and one rooster? A hen couldn’t lay me enough eggs in a year for me to ever do that. But who knows, I might change my tune if she laid a golden egg.



Angie Bicker is the lifestyles editor with the Clinton Herald. She has been with the Herald since 2001.