This is a picture of my dog exploding. He is deathly afraid of storms. Cats beware, but thunder?

I used to like rainstorms. Being from Mississippi, I rode tornadoes to school and ate boiling green thunderclouds at snackytime. But now it's kinda hard to enjoy them when all I can picture is Otis hyper-ventilating in his steel *pLaYhOuSe*, digging for imaginary toads in their holes like a junkie swatting at bats and spiders.

All I can see is the movie monster "Alien." All drippy with fake Karo-syrup drool and a mean set or two of snarling dog teeth. If I go home to a meaty pile of what used to be a beloved dog, I'm going to be shipwrecked. More storms tonight. I hear that you can give Benadryl to panicky dogs. Which I have and shoulda done. Tonight before the next storm, what's left of that poor dog is getting dosed. I might break one in half for me, too.