A heavy thunderstorm seemed like the perfect welcoming committee after three weeks of being away. Sometimes these storms can be a rumble in the distance, but last night the sky lit up into daylight and the deafening bolts cracked exactly in sync with the lightning, right above us.
Very soon both dogs were in bed – one hiding under the blankets, the other unable to settle down. These storms terrify him to say the least. He shivers and shakes and jumps up and down, hoping to find comfort elsewhere, which of course he doesn’t.
Eventually I got out of bed, took him in my arms and went into the pantry, the most protected room in the house I guess, as it has no windows. I started singing him a lullaby, swaying from side to side. He clung to me like a limpet and if at all possible, he would’ve crawled into my skin.
Eventually he settled down, with the odd moan and groan when a bolt thundered above us. After a long time the storm subsided and we got back into bed.
It was by no means a good night’s sleep, and rested would not be an adjective appropriate for the way I feel today, but giving comfort to a little baby boy who just wanted to be in his mommy’s arms while mother nature flexed her muscles, certainly made for a special moment.