Thursday, July 02, 2009
Stormy evenings are the rule in this area during summer. During the day, the sky is sunny but after hours of heating, instability builds up. By dinnertime or the commute home, thunderstorms become the norm and are almost a daily occurrence.
Last evening was no exception, though the storms held off until nearly dusk. The sky had a threatening look from late afternoon on, growing ever more threatening through dinner and the early evening dog run. By 8:15, the sky looked like night, and at this time of the year, the sun should still be shining.
I grabbed the dogs and announced it was time for their final run of the day. The time was much earlier than their usual last trip outdoors. Dog, who is the smart one and who hates thunderstorms, understood my urgency, I think. At least he was eager and complied quickly. Baby Dog, who is not the smart one, fiddled around smelling dirt and chewing leaves as the thunder grew ever closer and the rain began. She was oblivious to the coming storm, or at least oblivious to the need to get back inside the cabin before the next bolt of lightning struck even closer than the last one.
Finally, exasperated with her fooling around, I yelled at her, "I’m going to give you a bath if you don’t hurry up!" Baby Dog hates water, won’t walk through puddles and seems to think her toes were not meant to ever be wet. The threat of a bath did it. She performed her duty, and we made it back inside—just as the next bolt of lightning knocked out power for the next hour. I’m going to have to remember that threat and hope it works on her the next time.