I've been commandeered by the DFS - the Department of Feline Security.
Much to Senyah's amusement.

Yesterday and today, we've had some severe thunderstorms. Loud, boomy
ones, with seriously heavy rains.

Now I *like* thunderstorms. They lull me to sleep, and I sleep well
through them, with occasional wake-ups to enjoy the sounds. I didn't
*intend* to take a nap this afternoon, but, between reading a book and
listening to the storms, I was lulled into a nap.

So I'm lying on my back, drifting off in book-reading position.

Little Boy sort of wanders over with "I'm... um... not scared of
<BOOOM!!!> eek! thunder <BOOM!!> eek! storms!", and cuddles up against
me. Yes, he really made little "eek!" sounds - incredibly cute.

Little Feet was making no pretensions to nervousness, and was looking
for a place under the section of bedspread near the floor, where he
might hide. All of a sudden, a spectacularly loud BOOM kicks off. I
have Little Boy's claws digging into my underarms. Little Fleet jumps
straight up into the air, about seven feet, and lands on the bed - he
cuddles up on my other arm (after giving Little Boy a dirty look), and
shivers.

Dulce Mae dashes into the room to see what I did to cause the
explosions, works out that I'm the new Safe Place, and claims one of
my legs.

Buster is yawning on the back of the easy chair. Before he figured out
that he could live here, he used to want out when bad weather came, so
that he could find a good hiding place from the weather (cat logic -
go figure). Now that he has (FINALLY) figured out that *this is* his
home, he doesn't worry - we're a lot safer than his hiding places -
grin.

So Senyah (who doesn't particularly care for the storms either), comes
into the room, and asks, "Pinned down aren't you?"

To which I reply, "I guess so."

She says, "Good," and joins the crowd. We all take a family nap, which
is as it should be.

Geez, I hope I don't have to take a bathroom break anytime soon - I
think I'm trapped...

Hugs and Purrs,
Mark