I’m at home. Around me a severe summer storm rumbles and rolls its impending arrival. A threat of tornadoes is carried in the wind. With each passing minute the sky prematurely darkens the twilight hour and flashes with shards of splintering light. Sprinkles of rain splish and splash on pines and roof tops. The Weather Network keeps me informed in a suitably dramatic fashion. “Stay inside!” “Batten down the hatches!” “This is serious!”
Am I worried? Not really. But I remain observant.
I’ve fed my rough and tumble collies, Sass and Abbey, their evening kibble. They’re not concerned about the storm. They’ll hunker down on the cool ceramic tile floor in the hallway and wait patiently for Lloyd to arrive home from work. That is their only concern.
Princess, my imperial black kitty kat, has had her fill of tuna. She is under a bed somewhere. She’ll purr to stay centred.
My tall glass is filled to the brim with water and ice cubes. And I type.
I type to keep my mind from straying to a barn 20 minutes from home where my horse, Shakespeare — my 10-year-old,16.3 hh baby must wait out the storm on his own … okay with a barn full of buddies … without me.
My routine was upset by a doctor’s appointment today, so I wasn’t able to get to see him in the morning as usual. The plan had been to visit the barn this evening. But now, at 7:51 p.m. with an ever-darkening sky and intense storm system overhead it is better to be at home.
The dogs are now sticking close. It is as night outside.
I picture Mr. Bear, as he is known by his familiars, standing quietly in his stall, munching contentedly on timothy and alfalfa, or standing with his head lowered in the corner by his south-facing window. And I recall the last time such a severe storm system blew through, two years ago, in fact, and a tornado dropped down only a couple of miles down the road. He was lucky then. I hope he is so lucky tonight.
So, I type. I keep my mind grounded in this moment and trust Mr. Bear will be fine. He is a big boy and braver than I probably give him credit. (Though a piece of plastic blowing in the breeze is enough to send him … ) Tomorrow we are back in our regular routine and he will get double carrots to make up for those he missed today.
Nurture what you love.
My name is Dorothy … I am a Horse Mom