This time of year Kansas weather is kind of like straddling a fence, an electric fence.

This time of year Kansas weather is kind of like straddling a fence, an electric fence.

I got overly ambitious last week and planted some tomato seedlings. I covered them by making a teepee out of a couple old storm windows, kind of Mr. Green Jeans meets Duck Dynasty, thing.

It worked pretty well until one night when the wind blew one side down. Didn't take long for them to shrivel and die after that.

No worries, five more of the same seedlings in the house and still one large plant growing in a pot with one small tomato on it.

I chastised Lightning for not letting me know the window blew down.

"You bark about everything else, why didn't you make me get up and go look at that?"

Actually, Lightning hasn't been doing much night barking lately. He feels like this weather is like straddling an electric fence as well. And when you are covered in long static attracting hair, electron build up is not a good thing.

With storm fronts criss-crossing the plains, Lightning has been spending most of his days under the porch and many of his nights inside the house between the couch and the wall.

He does make his periodic "guard trips" through the house every couple hours. The door about a foot from my bed sticks so when he pushes it open it bangs against the door stop making a racket akin to Seal Team 6 breaching Bin Laden's compound.

The first couple times I'd bolt upright in bed and glare at him. Lightning returned the gaze with an unsympathetic, "Just doing my job, kinda like when you called me out from under the porch at 3 in the afternoon just to see if I was home."

Sometimes just living with dogs is like straddling a fence, an electric fence.

Terry Spradley is the editor of the St. John News, his email is