This weekend we had a series of ‘Supercell’ thunderstorms threatening the areas of South-East Queensland. Although we were quite lucky on this side of Brisbane and didn’t end up witnessing any large hail, damaging winds or flash flooding, the constant thunder that could be heard throughout the house was more than enough to send my little baby Matilda into hiding.

After spending the entire day inside with her tail between her legs, I knew my chances of putting her outside come night time were completely non existent. So before going to bed on Saturday night, I had her mat all set up on the carpet in the corner of the computer room; her favourite spot in the house. I sat her down, gave her a kiss on her head and said goodnight and from what I could see at the time, she seemed to be perfectly fine.

Later that night though, heading into the early hours of the morning, I awoke to find a little wet nose trying it’s best to sneak in underneath my pillow. The dog that the little wet nose belonged too, then proceeded to sit herself down right beside my bed and snore her little head off. It seemed that perhaps the computer room wasn’t fine after all and that she would much prefer to sleep in her Mumma’s room.

So there she was, my big brave German Shepherd, the one who was meant to be making me feel safe, all curled up in a ball laying down beside my bed, trying her best to hide from the big bad storm.

In her defence though, it was by far the loudest thunder that her tiny little ears had ever heard. Mine too for that matter. It was so loud in fact, that it sounded like an entire heard of the biggest, fattest, roughest elephants that you had ever seen, using our roof as a trampoline.

To be perfectly honest though, she really isn’t a storm girl even in the best of times. Regardless of the fact that she is designed to be a big brave German Shepherd, my baby Matilda doesn’t even like to get her dainty little paws wet. In fact, it’s at the stage now where depsite her age and her sore back legs, if the mat at the back door is wet, then she won’t go anywhere near it.

Instead, she will walk around the dry edges until she is as close to the door as possible and then jump her way through the open door and into the house. All of that effort, just so her dainty little paws don’t get wet. It’s quite embarrassing really.

With that being said though, I think we all know exactly where she gets her bravery from. Considering that even at the age of twenty-one her Mumma still needs a babysitter if she’s ever home by herself, just because she can’t sleep otherwise, it’s no wonder Matilda is exactly the same.

After all, as much as her Dadda may think otherwise, little baby Matilda really is a Mumma’s Girl.

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