Another Summer Storm

On an impossibly hot and humid afternoon, thunder suddenly sets the walls to vibrating and although the sky is still bright and blue, rain pours down in sheets, wind driven and slamming against the windows like small rocks.  The crepe myrtle surrenders immediately, lowering its branches and shedding blossoms like confetti.  When it's over, tendrils of steam rise from the pavement - they drift like disconnected spider webs.  It's just another summer storm, Mother Nature feeling feisty and showing off for the poor folks.  It passes and the stray cats emerge from their various hiding places, delicately picking their way across the wet grass like old women holding their skirts as they cross a muddy field.  Next door, with no shelter except a covered cement patio, the dog howls before, after and all through the storm - just as he does most of every day and into the night.


He's not abused or neglected - well, not precisely - but he is lonely and starved for attention.  He cries like a wounded thing in the heat of these summer days.  Not allowed in the house since his puppy days, he spends his time alone, confined and bored, his soft whines and whimpers go unheard or unnoticed.  His owners are not cruel people nor bad people, just the sort that think there's nothing wrong in buying a dog and then forgetting him.  Just the sort who don't think a dog has needs beyond food, water, and a half hearted shelter.  Just the sort who never think this might trouble the neighbors.


I don't understand this mindset, never have and never will and it's one of the prime reasons I prefer and trust most animals to most people.