Over-sensitivie furr-ometer?

The rain from what's left of Heir Gustav is supposed to be here tonight or tomorrow. I keep checking the radar, but so far the rain is moving away from us. Seriously, it's curling off to the west like it can't get away from us fast enough. I know it's coming eventually, though, because Ryan is full of the devil this morning. So far he hasn't gone after Tess, Chloe, or me, but he has attacked an unsuspecting keyboard cord and a plastic soda cap. I fell asleep last night with his paws planted firmly in my belly and he was still there when I woke up. He's been grumbling a lot, and he doesn't particularly want to cuddle.

I have no idea what his life was like before our friends took him in and passed him on to us. I'm fairly certain he was born to a stray or abandoned young since he wasn't fully grown when we got him. He must have been outside because he's still afraid of storms and has made no attempt to sneak out the door, unlike the girls. Probably someone was feeding him; he wasn't malnourished or afraid of people. The first time we met he crawled into my lap. I've been his person ever since, but he's not picky about where he gets scritchies or who's lap he naps in.

I expect pretty soon I'll find him sleeping on the stairs. That's where he naps when the weather is changing; it's close enough to downstairs to hear food cans open and half-way to his hiding spot under the bed if he hears wind or thunder. He may be there when I get home from work, or he may be hiding somewhere. It's going to be a long week for him.