Boo is, ironically, the most fearful of our adopted greyhounds. Oh, she’s brave enough when someone comes to the door, she greets, wags and smiles happily at new people. She’s brave enough on a walk to glance at a dog and follow the leash right up to the human on the other end.
But any inkling of thunder – I’m talking a rumble so far away that human ears can’t hear it – and Boo runs for her storm shelter: the half-bath downstairs.
Like most half baths, this one is small and Boo, being slightly bigger than her delusions of chihauhua, takes up most of the floor space. If you happen by our place when the sky is growling, you’ll likely have an easier time using the necessary facilities upstairs. A fact which causes much grumbling among the children of the house when they forget.
It’s my current opinion, in light of summer storms, flash floods and such, that Boo actually exemplifies storm safety. I grew up in Tornado Alley and I was trained to go to an interior room with no windows on the lowest floor when weather is wicked. No one trained Boo, she just does it all on her own.
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