Lacie, relatively new to the world and with little worldly experience, simply shrugged the baritone growl off as just another unexplained mystery. She stretched, leaned back against the couch and lay her head straight back down on the floor, her eyes pressed tightly shut.

Riley, on the other hand, in his infinite wisdom and experience, looked from one corner of the room to the other nervously. Someone, someone very large, had just growled at him and he was not about to let his guard down. He quickly clambored to his feet and scurried over to where I had moved over by the kitchen counter. Ears back and tail down, he squeezed between the cabinets and my knees and flopped down on my feet. As he put his head down, he scanned the room with spinning ears.

In the living room, sprawled out beside the couch, Lacie slept soundly and peacefully, unfazed by the continuous grumbling outside.

A week or two after I brought Riley home for the first time, I can recall bringing him to an early season party being held outside on a nearby farm. As darkness fell and the bonfire licked the sky, people began to shoot fireworks by the dozens. M-80's and firecrackers and huge rockets soared overhead as a band played noisily by the bonfire. Through it all, Riley slept on the tailgate of my truck and played innocently in the grass.

That year, when Riley was not quite a year old, I certain we had a few thunderstorms, though I don't remember when he first started being afraid. Every dog I've owned has eventually become afraid of the noise after a brief innocent period of puppyhood.

At this point in her life, everything is new and mysterious to Lacie. As she slept peacefully through Riley's controlled panic, the deep rumbling in the house was simply another unexplained phenomena.

It will be interesting as Lacie matures to try and notice when she first becomes afraid of the thunder. For now, at least, she is innocent and unaware. The beauty of puppyhood.