At midnight, the first rumble of thunder sounded off to the east. Drifting in and out of sleep, another boom, this time to the south, echoed through the woods, and I felt the power of the storm deep inside my body as the windows rattled. Now, it was building, scudding towards us, and would soon arrive.

By the time I released the dogs at four, the main body of the storm was coming fast. They came in just as hard rain began to fall, and breakfast was served with the background noises of thunder and rain.

Aqaba went to the door, stood up on his hind legs, and told us the storm was arriving. This cat has a thing about weather. He meows at us all, telling us it’s raining or a thunderstorm is coming. This morning, Aqaba is vocal, very vocal, which means the weather is going to be bad. This is one cat who spent months out in the woods and rode out Idalia, a CAT One hurricane. People dismiss category one hurricanes because they’re inside houses and safe. Aqaba was in the woods and on the ground. There’s a very good reason this cat is interested in the weather.

I opened the front door to look out into the darkness, and Aqaba got close and peered out, too. Rain pounded mom’s wheelchair ramp, which was the same spot where Aqaba first approached the house, walking up the ramp as if he wanted in. After six months inside, it must be strange to look out, and see the world that once nearly killed him.

Aqaba retreats turns and then looks again from a safer distance. This is Aqaba’s home now, not the house, but inside the house, and the rain that once drenched him, is now held at bay.

Aqaba wants to be a meteorologist, but he wants to do it from the comfort of his own home.

Take Care,

Mike