Annie, the monastery dog, is moping around and is scared to go outside. Dayton, Wyoming has been getting a lot of thunderstorms rolling over the Big Horn Mountain Range right at our back door. It’s the thunder that gets to her, makes her cower inside Sister Josetta’s room.

Because of the long-standing drought in the area, everyone else here in Wyoming welcomes the rain that the storms bring. The pastures are green, green, and the Little Tongue River that runs through the monastery grounds is swollen and roaring.

Near it is a screened-in gazebo where I go to write, and Annie usually runs ahead to show me the way.  But not these days, not until the hot weather sets in and there’s no chance of these loud and scary storms. I try to explain to her that it’s the lightning she’s got to watch out for, not the thunder, but I can’t seem to get through to her. I can barely coax her across the yard for a weenie treat, that’s how scared she is, because she just loves weenies (so do I).

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