We had awful storms again last night in Oklahoma with more predicted for today and that got me thinking about how my crazy dog used to freak out during storms. This entry was written a few months after I got Peek and during the first storm that we had that spring. I had never owned my own dog--nor had a child--so I wasn’t ready for the middle of the night wake up calls.
This dog is killing me.
Picture this: there I was last night, sleeping soundly with my loyal dog sacked out by my feet. Dreaming, content…until I was rudely ripped awake by a deafening howl inches from my ear.
To put it mildly, I was shocked.
And, since it was just after 2:00 AM, I was more than a little disoriented. I stumbled from bed, trying to figure out what in the heck was going on, flipped on the light, and saw my little Peek-A-Boo, sitting on a pillow, howling his fool head off.
My first reaction, of course was to spend a few valuable seconds trying to decide where I was doing to hide when the neighbors broke down the door to kill us. (The dog would be on his own.) Then it hit me. The dog was not doing a solo; he was howling a duet with a horrible siren outside—a tornado siren.
My next step was to run to the living room and snap on the television. According to the weather channel, there was no need for alarm. The tornado was well to the north; my apartment was safe.
The dog, however, was unconvinced. He was sure that we were in unbelievable jeopardy and he was determined to protect me at all costs. So the rest of our night went like this:
2:27 Return to bed.
2:35 Thunderstorm starts.
2:36 Peek decides he must protect hearth and home from thunderstorm so claws his way from beneath the blankets and over my body, flings tiny self from bed, races to window at top speed, barking and growling like a mad dog.
2:38 Thunder is relatively unimpressed with dog’s theatrics, responds with earth-shaking crack and boom.
2:39 Peek flees under the bed for safety.
2:40 Peek realizes I haven’t made the journey with him and leaps back into bed, barking and running around in circles.
2:41 Peek jumps back out of bed, stares up at me, barks again and dives back under the bed, clearly thinking I have just misunderstood his rather detailed warnings.
2:42 I close my eyes and bury my head beneath the pillows.
2:44 Peek decides I am the stupidest person in America, steels himself against terrifying storm, and creeps out from under bed to repeat entire warning process. Flings self in and out of bed several times as example of proper storm precaution.
2:46 Peek is shocked to discover that I still haven’t made the trek to safety and lodges verbal protest.
2:48 Dog successfully dodges the socks flung at him, continues to bark.
2:52 Dog adds howling to verbal protest.
2:55 Battle of wills begins. Peek continues to leap in and out of bed, howling; I continue to pretend I can’t hear him.
3:11 Decision is made that sleeping on the floor is infinitely preferable to not sleeping at all. I concede victory, throw blankets down in a rage and flop next to bed.
3:12 Satisfied that I have finally come to my senses, Peek stops howling, licks my hand, and promptly falls into the content and self-righteous sleep of a guard dog.
This much loyalty I can do without.