Apparently there was an earthquake last night. No, really. Look at this long list of boring anecdotes (sorry, I meant to say cutting edge media weblog 2.0) if you don’t believe me.
As a seasoned veteran of the infamous Dudley quake of ‘02 (I was living in Birmingham at the time), I knew what it was and remained calm as the bed shook moderately for about six seconds. “Surely, this will come to be known as the infamous Market Rasen quake of ‘08,” I murmered, laconically.
I seem to remember from GCSE geography that animals can sense earthquakes because of changes in the Earth’s magnetic field, micro-vibrations and other… stuff.
Scientific opinion is split on whether or not it’s true but at the risk of adding to the list of boring anecdotes, our dog started going nuts (running about, scratching the wall at the bottom of the stairs, howling, etc) at about quarter past midnight until the “moment of impact” at 1am. He was then completely quiet for several minutes before chirping up again briefly and then finally going to sleep.
Twelve hours later, he’s now lying under the desk like a well-trained Japanese schoolchild, which is unheard of as he usually prefers the sofa. What can it mean?
The Conversation {2 comments}
Your dog wants steak.
That’s a Fark reference.
Manchester also had a whole series of quakes the same time as Dudley had theirs, so I remained stoic and calm and uber-cool too. Even my cat dozed through the whole thing, which makes her a pretty crap quake-alert-cat, or whatever it is you call animals that pre-warn you about this sort of thing.
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