Your First Subtle Hint There’s a Thunderstorm Outside Your Window

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.

32 Comments on “Your First Subtle Hint There’s a Thunderstorm Outside Your Window”

  1. 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.

  2. 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).

  3. 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.

  4. 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.

  5. 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.

  6. 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.

  7. changterhune – Before you hear lies from Chang Terhune himself, we thought we’d tell you the truth: without us, his old action figures, he’d be nowhere. He loved science fiction from way back and began reading it at an early age, but it was through us that he acted it all out. That’s what led to the writing. He watched a lot of science fiction shows like Star Trek, U.F.O, and movies, too. But we were always there to do his bidding. And it’s like they say: you always forget about the little people on your way up. Oh, the 70’s and early 80’s with him were good times! He’d use these blocks and make all the crazy buildings for us to be in his stories. I gotta say the kid’s imagination was pretty damn fertile. Oh, he had friends, but they just weren’t into it like him. He was like the Lance Armstrong of action figures. And of science fiction. At first, when he began writing in the eighth grade, we didn’t mind. He still made time for us. And we knew that when he was holding us in his sweaty little hands and he got that far off look in his eye, he’d come back to burying us in the back yard or - god forbid! – blowing us up with firecrackers. But it was worth it for a part in one of those stories. We loved him for it. He kept us around even when we were minus a leg or two - or even a head. In that mind of his, he found a use for all of us. Then he discovered girls. October, 1986. It was like the end of the world. One day we’re standing in the middle of this building block creation he’d pretended was some marble city on a planet near Alpha Centauri and the next we were stuck in a box in the closet. Not even a “See ya later!” Nope, it was into the closet, then we heard some high-pitched girly-giggles then silence. We didn’t see him for years. We got word about him once in a while. Heard he took up writing, but it was crap like “The Breakfast Club” only with better music. We couldn’t believe it. Not Charlie. What happened to those aliens with heads he’d sculpted out of wax? Spaceships? Those complex plots? All gone. For what? You guessed it: Girls. Emotions. “Serious fiction.” I tell you, it was like hearing Elvis had left the building. During our two decade exile in the closet, we heard other things about him. He went to college. He wrote a lot, but not much he really liked. We knew it even then. It was like he didn’t dare write science fiction. Some of us had lost hope and just lay there. Others kept vigil, hoping for a day we didn’t dare speak about. Then we heard he’d stopped writing in 1996. Did he come to reclaim us? No. He took up music for ten years or so. He took up yoga. Once in a while, he’d visit us in the closet. But it was half-hearted. His mind was elsewhere. Then one day, he really did come back for us. One second we’re in the dark and the next thing we know we’re in a car headed for Massachusetts. Suddenly we got a whole shelf to ourselves out in broad daylight! Then he bought a bunch of others form some planet called Ebay. He’d just sit and stare at us with that old look. But why were we suddenly back in the picture? He had a wife now, who didn’t mind that he played with us. So what had happened? Turns out he’d never forgotten about those stories. He’d been thinking about all of us and the stories he’d made up and then remembered he’d been a writer once. From the shelf we could see him typing away. Before long he’s got a whole novel together! Then he’s working on another one. Word is there are two more in the planning stages! Some short stories, too! It’s good to see him using his imagination again. Its good to know he never abandoned us. He returned to his true love of science fiction. We hear the stories are pretty good. Someday we’ll get one of the cats to score us a copy of the manuscript. Man, it’s good to be out of the damn closet! --- I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me
    Chang, in plain view of children

    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.

  8. > 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.

  9. 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.

  10. 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.

  11. My parents have given up on one of the screen doors on their house because their manatee black 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.

  12. 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).

  13. 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.

  14. 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…

  15. 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

  16. A little bit of Benadryl solves this problem.

  17. cjmantel – There's a massive lump of grey crap sitting between my ears. Sometimes it makes awesome things, and sometimes it just makes me crazy.
    CJ

    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.)

  18. 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.

  19. 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

  20. 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.

  21. Earthquake + Old English Sheepdog + Small table covered in homework = an excuse no teacher was prepared to accept.

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