It's a habit left over from my days working at a TV station euphemistically known as the Big Dime, when in particular the weekend weather weiners took up a lot of space, energy and time plying their trade.
No jealousy here, it's part of the whole scene, and whether you liked it or not at the onset, eventually you, too, got the weather bug.
I was in bed a little while ago reading in an effort to calm my head so I could nod off, but that wasn't getting me anywhere. Though my house is well insulated, this night, thanks to Hurricane/Tropical Storm/Whatever Sandy, the winds had picked up a bit. That characteristic wolf howling in the distance was happening, along with the skittering of leaves along the ground, a noise that always made me think the leaves were up to something suspicious.
Naturally, the noise is getting gradually louder, and as I was anxiously listening for the crescendos and the occasional passing automobiles sloshing my high alert activated one of my two cats, Morgan, who will use any excuse to get me to play.
From the depths of the living room I could hear him, that howling/yowling noise he makes when he's carrying around the blasted green fuzzy toy I bought him some time ago, one with which he is quite taken. So now, in addition to the increasing winds and sloshes, there was an extra addition for my listening pleasure.
Now I could not sleep for the din: Whoooooooosh! Whooooooooooosh! said the wind. Slosh, slosh, slossshhhhhhhh, said the cars. More-erp. More-erp. More-erp. said the cat.
Morgan wanted attention, poor little fellow (why I think of him as little escapes me since he weighs 16 pounds maybe it is because he is an inordinately sweet animal) and though I usually don't capitulate, this night I did. Sometimes our critters sense ominous goings on in their environment. I was sure that the cat knew something was afoot out there and needed some reassurance, like most of us under the circumstances.
Amen, and put down an extra blanket.