It’s been dry -really dry- here for weeks. Some local communities were actually talking about water rationing.
But mid-week, we’d heard that it looked like rain was coming.
And it arrived, last night.
After all this time, I had finally been driven in from my night’s readings by rain. Sweet rain.
I sat in the sunroom and listened to the random sounds accompanying the blessing of rain.
This afternoon, the intermittent showers had eased, so I took Dara with me down to town, to run a couple errands. The first stop, I was able to look over my shoulder and out of the shop windows, to see her in the front seat of the car; keeping a close eye upon my movements.
But then there was the unmistakeable rumble of thunder. And having herder blood, she’s scared to death of thunder…
I looked back to the car, and she had abandoned her vigil, and I knew she had gone to seek the most confined place possible in the car.
I concluded my business as quickly as possible, to return to the car to offer her some comfort; and found her curled up and shivering in the footwell:
She was barely responsive in her fear; I comforted her as much as possible, then realized it would be a familiar thing for her to just proceed to my second errand.
A few minutes later, she was recovering, and gratefully accepting my attention.
I completed my second errand, and she was now getting back to herself, but still somewhat upset:
Yes, those frightened eyes just melt your heart.
On the way home though, she was quietly sighing and relaxing with my nearly-constant attention. By the time we got home, she had recovered considerably.
Tonight, she’s my shadow, not far from my side, and being reassured at every moment when she seeks attention. I let her come to me, not force myself upon her.
It is this partnership between dog and human which I believe God created as a reminder of that bond between us and all of creation.
And tonight, a gradually quieting herder sleeps by my side; a gentle soul, seeking and receiving comfort.