But it was one heck of a lightning storm and these things turn Coop into a panting, shivering, heavy-coated, tri-color mass of terrified Australian Shepherd. Probably what turned him into a stray in the first place — before he ended up at the animal shelter, all cut up by what I guessed was barbed wire.
This one sat right on top of us tonight, the latest in many in the 9 years since Coop moved in. A bolt hit close by and I smelled something burnt when I reopened the windows at 11:30 p.m.
It was a little stuffy in there — fortunately, the electricity and the AC were knocked out only for a minute — and there’s no escaping the thunder, but the closet is the only place in this house of big windows and no curtains where we can escape the lightning flashes. Cooper occasionally takes refuge in the adobe fireplace but it was no good tonight. My friend Isabel Sanchez had just sent me a roll of super-hero duck tape — apparently after reading my incisive entry on duck tape earlier in this blog — but even that wasn’t going to get us out of this jam.
I figured the best thing was to take shelter in the closet. I know some dog experts say don’t elevate their fears by doting on them, but Coop calmed a little. At least I got the trembling stopped. Fortunately, I already had a sneak-preview of a piece by my friend Peter Katel called up on my iPad and I read that through the storm as Coop burrowed in by my side.
And, so on to my amateur climate change theories — or maybe just climate weirdness. Anecdotal evidence so far this year: Snakes out a month late after that cool and super-wet May; summer-like clouds and storms starting a month early.
Academics will dispute this. I’m just saying. This is my experience from boots on the ground and butts in the closet.
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