My Favourite Cat is Cat Deeley

Two nights ago we had a severe thunderstorm that lasted nearly five hours. The thunder was close and the lightning, continual. Skippy's anxiety during these times reaches record highs and makes the trip to the vet seem like camping. I realize that many dogs have issues when it comes to storms and in that respect, Skippy is no different; but like humans, I believe that how a dog handles itself in a time of crisis says something about their character. So who does Skippy cling to to weather the storm? Who pulls her through when thunder is closing in all around her as she shakes, shivers, and pants? Cat Deeley.Yes, that is how strange my Jack Russell is: only Cat Deeley will do. Did you expect something normal like me or my wife?

Even before we can hear advancing thunder, Skippy is keenly aware of it and begins to tremble. She can't sleep, which means neither can we. About a year ago we discovered, during a storm, mostly through trial and error, that the only thing that would calm Skippy down was, "So You Think You Can Dance?" We set the laptop up on the bed and tried various shows to try to distract her, but it was only when my wife put on "So You Think You Can Dance?" that she began to calm down. We also discovered, when we turned the volume down in an attempt to get some sleep, that the attraction to the show was not visual: she needed to hear it. We accepted this as the lesser of two evils, and Skippy was soon lulled into a sleep-like trance. Such was the pattern for the past year.

So what's the attraction to "So You Think You Can Dance?" Is it the music? That's what we thought until two nights ago. We activated our severe thunderstorm Skippy safety plan and began the usual ritual of SYTYCD, but opted to go with the Canadian version because my wife hadn't seen the newest episode. But she can only take so much of the stupidity of the French judge, so after nearly a half-hour of, "You lifted the ceiling on that house," she decided to switch to the American version.

During this time, Skippy had not settled down. She was still trembling and trying to stifle her whines; but when Cat Deeley said, "Welcome to 'So You think You Can Dance,' I'm your host, Cat Deeley," Skippy laid her head next to the laptop and drifted off to the sound of her soothing English accent. This is when we made the connection. It's ridiculous enough that she only goes down to SYTYCD, but even more so that it has to be the versions featuring Deeley. The lengthy duration of the storm allowed us to test this theory.

When the show ended, we put on the Australian version - no Cat in this one. Skippy roused herself. She looked to us with her pleading eyes, confused as to why we would do such a thing. Even though it was the same show, she became unsettled again: not as unsettled as with the Canadian version, but she clearly detected something suspicious in the Australian accent. It was friendly, but you couldn't curl up by the fire with it. We finally switched to the British version. Cat Deeley spoke her magic words, and her voice, sweet as honey, lulled Skippy into a deep slumber once again.

This story makes me howl. What a great dog. Thank you, Britain, for your proper diction and annunciation; and thank you for Cat Deeley. If my dog could thank you she would lick the furniture you sit on. The differentiation between T.V. shows and the purposeful attachment to a specific British T.V. host as a means of finding solace in a time of heightened stress, certainly demonstrates intelligence. But isn't it just weird? And bizarrely eccentric? And don't we all find eccentric people really strange? That's because they are. So what is up with my Jack Russell? I have no idea.

Cat Deeley's biggest fan.