Your First Subtle Hint There’s a Thunderstorm Outside Your Window
Posted on June 13, 2008 Posted by John Scalzi 32 Comments
When a dog the size of a small bear jams itself into a space under your desk better suited for one of the cats — and fits.
Kodi no like the thunder. Poor pup.
Poor Kodi! I hope you have pet her and comforted her and assured her that the nasty thunder-and-lightning won’t get her family.
My Rocky-dog responds much the same way when the park 1/4 mile away sets off fireworks.
Thunderstorms also send our dog under couches, beds or in her kennel — whichever is closest to a local human. Fireworks make her crawl, shivering, into the nearest person’s lap. Absent a lap, as close to people’s feet as folks will let her (on them is even better).
Well at least it doesn’t try to fit on your lap.
She’s tried that before, actually, Brett.
Did Kodi always do this? Our previous dog didn’t mind thunderstorms until he was about 7. After that, he couldn’t find a place safe enough. The bathtub was one of his favorite spots. We used to give him some tranquilizers, but it was hard to know exactly what day thunderstorms are coming.
Awwww… there’s something very endearing about big puppies that are chickens.
Yikes!
And sorry about the indefinite “it”. I don’t like referring to pets as it. I had forgotten whether her plumbing was indoor or outdoor. And FSM knows I don’t want to insult by misgenderization. Not when she can fit my head in her mouth.
Brett L:
No worries. My mother in law’s been calling her “him” for ten years now. We don’t sweat the gender issue as far as it concerns the pets. They’re all fixed anyway.
King is the same way. He wedges under my desk, pushes the UPS out of the way, loosens plugs. He doesn’t care.
Then he gets my foot in between his front paws and rests his head on it. Because Mom ain’t going anywhere if he can help it.
The picture isn’t loading for me, for some reason. Although it tried for a long time…
It might be a Flickr thing; that’s to where I uploaded the picture.
I used to dot his as a kid. Cram myself under a chair or a table or something. SOmething heavy and dark. Oddly enough I had a predilection for putting myself under cast iron chairs, which are about as conductive as you can get.
This habit ended when at Gavin Cotter’s 7th birthday party it began thundering and I crawled under a chair and other kids started to kick my ass. Literally.
I figured I’d be better off with the thunder.
I bet its even more fun when Kodi crawls into bed with you.
There she is! She’s a pretty dog!
> Poor Kodi! I hope you have pet her and comforted her
> and assured her that the nasty thunder-and-lightning
> won’t get her family.
That’s about the worst thing to do, it reinforces the dog in thinking that there *is* something to fear about the storm. Also, as I’m sure John knows, dogs are pathological attention whores and they’ll sure remember it when acting scared gets them all the attention they want.
Strange as it sounds, we make fun of our dog when she’s afraid of something harmless. Letting her know how silly she is and showing here that *we* aren’t afraid actually does wonders to her attitude. She used to be afraid of vacuum cleaners, of dishwasher, of large dogs; not anymore.
My high school boyfriend’s dog (a husky) tried to climb in to the dish washer once and would try and often tried to fit behind the toilet during thunderstorms. My old dog would squeeze behind me if I was on the couch, otherwise he’d just get as close as possible to me. Luckily he wasn’t very big.
Too funny. My brother, Dr. Phil-Physics, forwarded me the link with the title of Kodi=Suzy…
Susie was my old shepard/husky mix that was also terrified of thunderstorms and fireworks. Yes, she had taken the leap into my lap route more than once, and one night I awoke during a storm just in time to see 90 lbs of dog midair and flying into in my bed from the doorway.
But the best was the time after a particularly noisy storm when we couldn’t find her for quite a while in the house. When we did find her, she had nosed open the walk-in closet and was hunkered down in a corner…and was calm for a change. We had shut the closet door at some point which is why she didn’t come when we called her.
For ever after, if the weather even hinted there might be a storm, we just left the closet door unlatched, she went into her cave during the storm and we came home to a happy and calm dog.
Ah, I do miss her. Hope doggie heaven has plenty of bunnies for her to play with.
My parents have given up on one of the screen doors on their house because their
manateeblack lab will run through it to hide in the house. It’s even more amusing considering that if properly trained, she should be used to loud noises like shotguns used for hunting.It should be fairly obvious that she isn’t a hunting dog, especially since her version of “Vicious Guard Dog” involves showing the valuables to anyone who gives her pettins.
I had a doberman that would run at the merest hint of a goose. Then again, she was the world’s biggest cat hater, but had no idea what they were (if you didn’t tell her it was a cat, she wouldn’t know).
Anyone know if wolves and feral dogs exhibit the same behavior?
My Dad had a Doberman, that he was trying to train as a policedog. But the dog was terrified of the big water sprinklers that we used out in the Pacific Northwest orchards, and would try to hide under the coffee table. My dachshound tried to comfort him, but it was a losing battle. However, considering the thunderstorm that just went through, Kodi has the right idea. My cats just stand at the window looking for the funnel clouds.
Poor Kodi!
My previous dog exhibited the same behavior, even though when he was younger he was well-accustomed to stormy weather. By the time he was 12 or so, though, thunderstorms scared the crap out of him. If he was home alone, god help him. He usually tried to hide in the bathroom, closed the door behind him, got trapped, and tried to chew his way out.
I don’t know what the new dog thinks, since we haven’t had a thunderstorm in the Bay Area since sometime last summer…
That gun thing doesn’t work. I’ve taken my rottie to the range and hunting, and she knows that the bang means that it’s time to go get the dead thing. Thunderstorms still send her (And my daughter) climbing into bed with us at night. A vet friend of ours said that a lot of animals are hyper sensitive to storms, it’s more the overpressure than the boom. What the hell, spoil them. You only get to live once.
Dave
A little bit of Benadryl solves this problem.
I know storms are bad when my cat sits next to me. He’s the braver of the two cats (my boyfriend’s cat will come cuddle at the first flash of lightening) and also the more aloof, so when he’s stuck to my jeans like a soft-spined burr, I know the storm must be inordinately violent.
(For reference: think of a slightly leaner Lopsided Cat. Your photos always remind me of my Tom.)
My basset hound does the same thing. He will cram himself into whatever available small space is near me. Absent a small space, he will jam himself against my legs (or body if he can get up to wherever I am) as tightly as canidly possible.
I’m betting that he and Kodi could both fit under that desk together if the thunderstorm were big enough.
If it was loud enough to make the dog hide under things, where were the cats?
Who knows? Cats are cats.
Cats have to phase-shift during violent thunderstorms. Otherwise the large E-field strength causes them to gather up an enormous static electric charge. Then they get attracted towards the storm clouds and end up getting stuck on the ceiling until the storm dies down. Unless they’re outdoors and then things get really complicated if they don’t immediately phase-shift.
It’s all a matter of physics. And trans-dimensional physics. And, well, cats.
Dr. Phil
Wiskey is a miracle cure. Even for thunder…
:)
Hallie, A GSD who is roughly Kodi-sized, doesn’t actually climb into the bed. She just sits beside me, whimpering, until I comfort her. Didn’t get much sleep the last couple of days.
Earthquake + Old English Sheepdog + Small table covered in homework = an excuse no teacher was prepared to accept.