BOOM! Thunder cracked the penthouse as 14-year-old Sherman lay in his bed, in boredom and frustration, not fear, he needed to be asleep, not awake. He had long since grown out of the fear of thunderstorms. His dog father however… Mr. Peabody had always prided himself on being calm in any situation, unfortunately, thunderstorms were the one thing he had never been able to calm his dog instincts about.
Now Sherman heard the telltale sounds.
THUMP! BUMP!
His door opened and in rushed a small, white mass that launched itself onto Sherman's bed. Out of habit Sherman opened his covers and Mr. Peabody dove under them, situating himself on top of Sherman's chest.
Sherman looked at him. "Dad, for the thousandth time, thunderstorms are nothing to be afraid of."
Peabody peeked at him from underneath the blankets, a humiliated look on his face, "I know, Sherman, it's just… I can't." Sherman smiled at him. "Well at least they usually happen at night, that way no one will know."
Another crack and Peabody hid his face under the blanket once more.
Sherman lay there, Peabody shaking on top of him, trying to get to sleep. After a while he stopped shaking and Sherman noticed he was getting hotter and hotter…
"Mr. Peabody?" No answer. He lifted the blanket up. Peabody was sleeping peacefully on top of his chest.
Sherman sighed. "You make quite the nice blanket, but it's getting too hot for me."
He gently pushed a now finally sleeping Peabody off him and scooted over so there was room for both of them.
The thunderstorm had calmed down and Sherman was finally able to drift asleep, Peabody's paw still wrapped around his neck.