Storms

The real beauty of winter is not the fresh snow blanketing everything- the quiet it drapes the world in. It is not the mornings of thick frost that looks like an ice storm without the damage. It is not the bitter cold that sucks the air out of your lungs and wakes you up better than the largest cup of coffee ever could.

No, the real beauty of winter is that rarely are there Thunderstorms. Whereas in Spring, it's stormy and we frequently get thunderstorms, and sometimes those storms are severe here in the Midwest- which means those horrible tornadoes. I do not like thunderstorms. I never have. As a kid, and even a teenager, if it started storming as I was going to bed, I would ask mom to let me stay up til the storm passed. I clearly remember one summer night when I was 16 or 17, and we kept getting wicked thunderstorms. It was after we had gone to bed, and I was terrified. I finally got up, grabbed my blankets, and crept into my sister's room. I crawled up on her floor and I felt better, just being with her. I felt a little silly the next morning when she woke up and teased me about being the big sister who was scared and went into the little sister's room.

I remember my first tornado warning. I went to college in Indiana, and in April of my Freshman year I found out what it means to live in the Midwest, particularly in Spring. My friends and I were walking back to the dorm from dinner, and these sirens started going off. Everyone started running. And I stood there like 'huh?'. One of my friends explained it was a tornado siren, and we needed to take cover. As we took cover in the dorm basement, I rocked back and forth, mumbling and crying. I was hysterical. People looked at me and asked what was wrong with me. My best friend explained that I lived in NY, we didn't get tornadoes. One of the other students said 'yeah, but you did tornado drills, right?'. No! For the people from the Midwest, tornado drills and sirens were normal, but for me it was like being trapped in a horror movie. Thankfully it passed, with no damage. Every year I was at Hanover we had a tornado warning. I was scared for each of them.

And now, I have a dog who is terrified of thunderstorms. And it's not Cobalt, the dog who is scared of everything and would probably bark at his own shadow. No, it's Ms. Onyx, the dog who exemplifies the beagle breed standard of 'a lot of dog for the size'. We have often joked that Onyx's motto is 'I might be small but I'm mighty'. She doesn't bat an eye at taking on huge dogs-Erich's parents lab mix Axel, the German Shepherd who lives around the block, rottweilers, St. Bernards, and the assortment of large dogs we meet at the vet. But as soon as she can sense a thunderstorm, she becomes this quivering mess.

Since we've been buried under snow for the past few months, I hadn't really given it any thought when the weatherman said we'd have thunderstorms tonight. And then Onyx kept pacing, coming over to me and pacing around. She was extremely anxious, and I couldn't figure out what was wrong. Then I heard it. Thunder! And the past 8 years of anxiety came rushing back in an instant. So I went over to the couch to comfort her. I was barely seated and she was on my legs, climbing up onto my chest. I kind of fell back onto the couch, because she was insistent that she wanted to be on my chest. I let her snuggle there, and I pet her and rubbed her ears and comforted her. When she felt safe enough, she climbed down and went over to her bed. At first she buried her head under a blanket, but she quickly fell asleep.

One night survived. Months to go!