We had a heavy thunderstorm last night: so much rain, thunder, and lightning that Levi and Gimpy chose to forgo their usual outdoor, pre-bedtime ritual. Thinking that might mean a trip outside in the middle of the night and wanting to be sure they could wake me if they needed to go out, I invited Gimpy to stay overnight in my room instead of in his crate in the den. I've made him that offer a number of times since he came to live with us ten months ago, but always before it's made him nervous, causing him to pace until I'd finally get up and open the gate to let him go back into his crate. He put himself to bed in that crate the first night he was here, effectively ousting Levi, and seems to feel secure in there. I understand. I like the comfort of my own bed, too.
Last night, though, Gimpy settled right down and stayed all night in the bedroom with Levi and me. When I woke up this morning, he was pressed against the frame of my bed, sound asleep on top of the sandals I use as slippers. Levi was sleeping soundly, too, as far away from Gimpy as he could get and still be in the room.
Today I drove into town and saw just how much rain we actually had during the night. The waterways along my usual route were swollen so full that I think a good sneeze might have generated waves high enough to wash across the road. At one point I wished for my camera, but I wouldn't have been able to use it, because I was afraid to take my eyes off the road. It's weird. I've been driving that curvy, two-lane road for more than thirty years and have never once drifted off the edge of it, but when the water gets high like it is today, I have the strongest sensation that I'm going to run off the road and into the water.
That isn't a new feeling. For years I've felt as if deep water has not only the power but also some kind of malevolent desire to pull me into it. This is not a full-blown psychosis, thank goodness, just an irrational thought that flitters across my mind when there are no guardrails or handrails between me and a body of water. I have no problem getting into a creek or even into the ocean as long as I can wade in from the shore, but driving close to open water or walking out on a pier gives me a case of the willies. Even walking near my daughter's in-ground swimming pool makes me nervous enough that I give it a wide berth.
Speaking of weird things, this post is soooo not what I intended to write when I sat down here tonight. That's weird, too, isn't it? How did I get so far off track? Maybe the wicked waterways aren't the only things I need to keep my eye on. Maybe the full moon is messing with me, too.