I hate the rain. I really don’t like the thunder and lightning. When I first came to live with Mama, I would head to the guest bathroom when it was going to rain. I would go into the shower and curl up in a corner. Mama put a blanket in there for me to lay on.
Then Mama decided it probably wasn’t the safest place for me should it storm really bad as the wall in front of me was all glass plus there was a window across from it. She closed the shower door and made me lay on the blanket outside the door. But that wasn’t a very good idea either. I was still in the way of glass should it break. She then closed the guest bathroom door and the guest bedroom door so I had this little hall that I could cuddle up on the blanket and be safe.
When our first daddy died, Mama decided she didn’t like having me so far away from her bedroom. She moved my blanket into her closet and arranged a bed in there for me to cuddle up in and feel safe. She bought a “thunder coat” to put on me to see if that would help. I still shivered, shook and refused to eat when it stormed, but at least Mama was right there for me. Sometimes she would come in and hold me, but that didn’t help. Neither did treats nor Busy Bones. If it is going to storm when she had to go away for a while, she would turn on the radio and one of the nightstand lights. She gave me some treats and would tell me she would be home soon.
I still don’t like the rain. I do relinquish if I have to go potty really bad and will run out an then run right back in. I do have a raincoat that I don’t like to wear, but since we got Jiffy I will wear it with her and go for a short walk in the rain. She doesn’t mind the rain.
Mama tells me there is a nursery rhyme that says “Rain, rain. Go away. Come again some other day.” I say it should only rain after midnight and stop before the sun comes up. Don’t think that will work, but it is worth a pray.