Imagine, if you will, a dog terrified of thunder.
(My ego suggests you picture a fierce German Shepherd, while my reality suggests a hairless Chihuahua. It is your choice, however, how you choose to picture your blogger as a canine. But, please, be kind.)
Anyhow, imagine this dog so panicked by a storm that she tries to flee the monstrous noise by running from one end of the yard to the other… constantly. Again and again and again, the Shepherd races from one fence to the other, yelping at the heavens to please “Shut up!”
No matter how long the thunder lasts, the dog runs. It is only exhaustion that brings her senseless terror to an end. She finally cowers at her water bowl, panting, but much too tired to drink.
The storm passes slowly overhead until it departs altogether. Only then does the Shepherd have the nerve to quench her painful thirst…
Got the picture? Good.
Three deaths in the small circle of people I know have rattled me these past two days.
The fear, the panic these uneasy deaths spark in me are not rational. While everyone is made uncomfortable and leery of a sudden storm, few are truly terrorized by the inevitable noise.
Panic Disorder is an embarrassing burden that often leaves my “neighbors” angry and my tongue unattractively wagging.
Pardon my fear. It will pass and your author will return to her wits momentarily.
Until tomorrow, when this blog will once again try to be helpful…