I have never heard storms like tonight’s thunderstorms. But then, I’ve never lived in a mountain valley before. Friends had told me storms here would be different, but I didn’t know quite how different until this evening.
Forecasts had been calling for severe weather, so I got outside early this morning to rinse off a Weber grill that had been “marinating” in oven cleaner overnight. The grill looks really nice, very clean. It’s an old one that was abandoned in the barn – it has wooden handles and three circular air vents at the bottom, the kind you need to adjust one at a time. The handles need to be replaced, so I figure I’ll make some from locust or oak. There’s just something about wood that I greatly prefer over plastic. Wood feels good in my hand. I think the grille itself needs to be replaced (or, as folks here would say, “…the grille needs replaced”) but the smaller grille that holds the charcoal is just fine. In a few days, I’ll clean the aluminum legs and remove any rust off the steel sections. I purchased charcoal last fall when it was on sale, so all I have to do is finish with my cleaning before we strike a match. Doesn’t grilled steak sound delicious? Maybe trout caught fresh from the river?
A mid-morning rain forced Snickle-Fritz and I inside but it didn’t last long. Most of the day, it’s been sprinkling. Towards dusk, we went outside to guide the three calves that seem to prefer the grass in our yard back over the cattle guard to join their herd before the bad weather set in. I made a few adjustments to the sides of the cattle guard, hoping that would keep the calves from strolling across. But once dog and I returned inside, the clouds opened up and it just poured! I looked out the window – this was just minutes after working on the cattle guard – and most of the herd had gathered near the cattle guard on the road. The three calves were already back over in the yard! So much for my paltry attempts at building fence. For a while, it looked as if the rest of the herd would join them, but at least the cows and bull decided to stay in their pasture!
I was not about to head outside with it raining so hard and I’m really glad I made that decision. Snickle-Fritz and I hadn’t been inside more than five minutes when this enormous ROAR started at the west end of the valley, miles away, increased in volume, and rumbled right up to our single-wide! I knew it was thunder; poor dog had no idea what size beast could be making such a horrific sound! He stood on his chair in the front room (yes, he has his own recliner, but he just uses the chair feature), front paws on the arm, and looked out the window, trying his best to identify the animal that had just roared. Poor guy was panic-stricken. And when the next roar of thunder swept up to the home, he – all 65 pounds of him – jumped into my lap, frozen in fear. I held him tight (he likes that – deep pressure) and gradually, he positioned his chest on my lap but his tail end was still high. I massaged his back with a firm, methodical pressure and slowly, his hind quarters relaxed. Snickle-Fritz has these huge paws that he uses like hands – he actually grasped my arm with his front paws and held on. So sad – how do we explain thunder to a terrified dog? All I could do was hold him tightly and murmur what I hoped were calming reassurances in his ear.
The third peal of thunder was closer than ever – Snickle-Fritz craned his neck toward the ceiling, trying to figure out where it was coming from. And then, seconds later, lightning crackled across the sky. It seemed to jump right in our window. Poor dog leaped out of my arms and ran to the bedroom. I think he was still trying to find out what was causing such chaos in his world. He didn’t find what he was looking for in the bedroom so he came back to the front room, shaken, and lay down beside me on the floor. That’s where he stayed for the rest of the storm, with occasional recon visits to his chair. Thankfully, the storm didn’t last more than 45 minutes.
Not long after the weather calmed, Snickle-Fritz jumped into my lap again. But this time, he didn’t settle down. Imagine a large hunting dog on point in your lap. That was my dog tonight. His head was pointing toward the bedroom. This is new behavior on his part, but I recognized what he was telling me right away. Snickle doesn’t bark with us, just when he’s nervous or senses danger. But if he wants something from us, he will literally guide us to it. Earlier, he held onto his Frisbee until I’d followed him to the exact spot from which he wanted me to toss it. If he needs to go outside, he’ll lick my arm. This time, it was apparent from his stance that Snickle-Fritz wanted us to go to bed. Me. And him. So that’s what I did. That’s where I am now – I have a little computer spot in an alcove by the bed. Snickle is stretched out asleep on my side of the bed. It’s okay – I’ve learned he makes a great bedwarmer, too.
Usually, he can stay awake a bit longer than he did tonight. Perhaps the thunder and lightning show were too much for him.
I can understand why – storms here take on a life of their own as they dance between the mountains and skip down our valley!