I wish I could avoid
The pooches going paranoid
When thunder-stormy shocks
Will blast us out of cotton socks.
They tried to get in bed
With humans till all up got fed:
To study was dogs’ fate –
With me, as usual, working late.
They’re cowering with me,
And looking most reproachfully;
Beg: ‘Make it go away;
Inflicting this, is not fair play!’
I urge them to, ‘Hush, pups!
These downs will soon give way to ups;
See? Thunder’s on the wane …’
Ker-r-r-r-r-ash – boom!
‘… oh, eeeek! It seems it’s back again!’
P.S. Scientific facts discovered this evening:
(a) Dogs prevented from climbing under blankets in bed will sit on your head.
(b) Five dogs will not fit on one lap, no matter how hard they try.
(c) Some thunderstorms take ages to go away.