My dog Bayley is a six-pound spunky Yorkshire terrier. That means he is ferociously competitive and confident when it comes to handling the big dogs at the Dog Park, and when chasing off that “scary mailman” or the Amazon delivery person ringing the doorbell. I contrast his confident, competitive nature in the Dog Park to his response to the latest thunderstorm. During a recent storm, Bayley cowered in the bathroom under my legs, shaking incessantly. These two scenes seem to be at odds with each other.