Don't those eyes make ya melt?
This photo of Mr. Cool is from about four years ago. Though he has become a mature, wise old sage, he still goes goofy during storms.
I used to give him extra cuddles and baby talk to him during thunder storms. Our veterinarian told me this is exactly the wrong thing to do. By going out of my way to console Mr. Cool, he most certainly thinks the worst.
"She never pauses Doctor Who to lay on the floor and goop all over me," he probably thinks.
I was gently stroking Mr. Cool's face during a storm the other day while gazing deeply into his eyes and whispering slowly, "Woows a goowd bwoooy? Woows a goowd bwoooy?"
He immediately sat upright, composed himself and requested I go to the safe deposit box at the bank. He also instructed me to buy him a stack of pancakes soaked in bacon grease.
"But why?" I asked.
He said he needed to "make some changes" to his will (probably because of this and this) and that he didn't have much time. In addition, he said a stack would take too long. He probably had enough time left for *sniffle* only one pancake.
The vet was right. I had been conditioning Mr. Cool to think doom is upon him instead of just a little rain.
The next time I hear thunder, I shall resist all urges to swaddle him and give him a pacifier and baby bonnet. I will muster up some very tough love and bark at him:
"What's with you? Don't you know Doctor Who is on?"
It'll break my heart.