Taking Shelter With the Pack

The weather conditions were so severe Saturday night that I actually took my two half-civilized, outdoor dogs to my daughter's house, just in case.  I love those dogs, but I love them the most when they are outdoors where there is ample room for their smelly, slobbery enthusiasm, and abundant fresh air to dilute their stinky dog breath. 

Poor old Duke simply cannot jump nimbly into the backseat of the car.  I had to help him and it hurt his hips.  But he was so excited to be going for a ride that I had to laugh at him.  He stuck his face between the two front seats and watched the road with the same intensity as any other back seat driver. 

Jake the pup is apparently the unfortunate victim of some type of neurological experiment.  Maybe he was formerly owned by LSD dealers who routinely tested it on their dogs.  If he is unsure, he freezes.  I can place him in position and he will not move.  That is how his head slowly came to rest on the console beneath Duke's mouth and became covered in slobber.  When he is not faced with new and frightening situations, he becomes "Acid Trip Dog".  Whenever I step out of the car or the front door, he is in hyper-speed-of-light mode, racing around so recklessly that his hind end skids out from under him.  He leaps into the air and hangs from my clothing by his teeth.  He crashes into my legs.  When he watches me fill his bowl one scoop at a time, electricity appears to jolt through his body at the sound of the food pouring into his dish.  He is a crazy little dog and growing like an ambulatory yeast culture instead of a pup. He already knows what "sit" means, but it takes him three of four attempts to contain his surging insanity in order to keep his rear end on the ground.  He chases the chickens and drags everything he can get in his mouth into the yard.  He has started exploring far from Duke now, and that is worrisome.  The coyotes could eat him or he could get lost.

Thankfully, once we got to my daughter's house, both dogs settled down.  I left the pup in the garage and brought Duke into the hallway because I knew he would not bother The Cats.  If it had come to the point of all of us huddled together in the basement - women, dogs and cats - who knows what sort of a terrible ruckus may have ensued? 

Alas, the tornado that was on an apparent path directly toward my house dissipated miles away, and the three inch hailstones never materialized.  I did not have to take shelter with the two wild beasts as it turns out.  When it comes to tornadoes, it is better to err on the side of caution.  Still, I felt just a tiny bit sheepish for the unnecessary excitement.  Then I received an email from my neighbor.  She admitted she was heading for the barn to turn her horses loose for a running chance against the tornado.  From her high vantage point, she could see that the storm was dissipating and realized the danger was over - this time.