Countdown to 2:00 a.m.

My dog, Swirl, lays on an old quilt next to my bed.

He is such a beautiful boy that I am tempted to lay down next to him but I sit up in bed writing while he occasionally lifts his head to look at me.

Later, about 2 a.m. they say, a storm will come through. Before it does, while the big clouds are still hovering over counties west of here, Swirl will be up pacing. After a short time, he will put his front paws on the bed, stand up his full five feet, and look down at me. I will awake as terrified as if an intruder was about to strangle me. That I am prepared for this scenario changes nothing. I will experience that jolt of surprise and fear no matter how clearly I know it’s coming.

Which is to say: there’s no preparing for a lot of things. You can play the tapes 10,000 times but that won’t make a difference. There is a vast inventory of situations to which this applies, and few of them involve dogs.