The Little Pack

Cheyenne, like several of our other dogs, is afraid of thunderstorms. A few nights ago, an exceptionally forceful storm rolled through while we were sleeping and lightning struck close to the house multiple times. One struck so close that I heard a sizzle as the lightning flashed, closely followed by a very loud thunderclap. Immediately, Cheyenne’s little head popped up over the side of the bed. I told her to come up, which she did and then she immediately pawed me in the face several times to warn me of the danger close at hand. Thanks Cheyenne, I hadn’t noticed. She trembled and refused to lie down. Every single cell in her body was telling her that danger was near, and to be fair, it was. I kept talking to her calmly, trying to bring her anxiety level down.

If you haven’t figured, I don’t buy into that whole theory that if you comfort your pet when they are scared you will teach them to be more afraid. Sure if she was only unsure, and I made a big deal about it, I might only reinforce her fear. However, she was all ready beyond  scared. It would have been heartless to ignore her needs. Besides, research is starting to agree with me on this point. But I will save my argument for another day.

So back to my point. Cheyenne was in a full-blown panic. And because I believe that warrants comforting, I talked to her calmly and told her it was all right. I stroked her face, but she continued to sit there—she had assessed this situation and decided she needed to stay alert. She is a natural watchdog, very aware of her surroundings. She backed up to me and still trembling, sat with her back facing me. She somehow knew the exact direction of the storm and she strategically positioned herself exactly between the storm and me.  She proceeded to “watch” the storm.

I am at a loss to explain how unbelievably touching I found this. She was completely terrified, and uncontrollably shaking with fear, but she put my safety and the desire to protect me above her own terror. This literally brings tears to my eyes. The absolute selflessness that dogs possess never ceases to amaze me. But more particularly, I am struck by just how far of a journey Cheyenne and I have taken together. As the storm passed and turned to rain, I told her it was okay to lie down—and she did. In this moment, I realized she trusts me absolutely and I am awe today of this bond that we have forged.

1. I love her determination. Once her mind is made up, she will not give up. Ever. It’s not so cool when she has her mind set on my sandwich or a drink, but the determination itself is admirable.
2. She is very brave. Our little warrior kitty. When she has had enough from the dogs (and she puts up with a lot, trust me), she lashes out at whoever is tormenting her. I have seen her chase down Cheyenne on more than one occasion, and to review, Cheyenne is 40 pounds to BT’s 15. And Dixie(who is a warrior in her own right)… well, let’s just say that BT is certainly unafraid of a dog smaller than herself. I have seen Dixie running away from Baby Titten many a time, with BT giving chase and just letting her have it the whole way.
3. All of her vocalizations. Every one. The pathetic, the furious, the purrs.
4. The way she sometimes stalks me down the hallways. Usually I crack up and break the spell, but sometimes I am able to able to pretend as though I haven’t noticed what she is doing. When she finally reaches me, she doesn’t know what to do with herself, and tries to act nonchalant, but instead just awkwardly stands there looking really guilty while simultaneously trying to shrug it off, as if to say, “What? Who me? Oh, you must be mistaken. I wasn’t doing anything.”
5. She may be a fighter but she will put up with more from me than anyone else.
6. Her devotion is doglike. Especially to her string. (But to us as well).
7. She can contort her body into the smallest, most unimaginable positions to take advantage of the tiniest bit of sunshine.
8. The dark brown in her coat is the color of hot fudge, and the light brown is the color of butterscotch.
9. The way she waits for me to get out of the shower in the morning, stands right by me as I dry off, and then complains that she is getting wet. She does this to my husband also.
10. She is unapologetic for who she is. So when I think about it, she is truly a very strong female role model–yeah, yeah, say what you will–but she knows what she wants, she goes after it with an unflagging will, fights for it, and never regrets her actions. Seems to me there is plenty to admire in that. And quite honestly, I do.

1. He greets me each and every morning. And if I sleep in too long, he cries… and if I still sleep in too long he begins to knock things over. And if I still sleep too long he races sideways through the house making a “greowl” sound: half growl, half meow. OK, so most of this behavior is actually kind of obnoxious. But all of these actions are rooted in his love for me and so I just find them all the more endearing.
2. His purr-coos.
3. His soft, soft fur.
4. The way he waits for me at the screen door every single time I take the dogs out. Awww. Sweet.
5. That he likes his belly rubbed.
6. The way he sleeps on his back with all four paws in the air.
7. His little games: whether he has a mouse toy, a bottle cap, or a paper clip, we are talking about hours of endless entertainment.
8. The way he plays in the running water in the sink and the fact that he only likes the way I turn it on. He literally snubs the faucet when my husband attempts to turn on the water for him.
9. That he comes when I call him and follows me around the house like a dog.
10. His big, round eyes and his absolutely meek innocence. He embodies a sweetness that is impossible to describe.