One stormy night, your six-year-old daughter awakens to the sound of thunder. She runs to you, scared, shaking. You comfort her and tell her that it’s just giants bowling, up in the sky. She smiles, calms down, and crawls into bed with you. You read her a story, then, as she nods off, you carry her back to her bed, tuck her in, and hope that the weather cooperates. This is what parents do; this is good. On the same night, in the home next door, a six-month-old German Shepherd awakens to the same thunder and runs about, whining, whimpering. Doris, a grandmother of four, says: “It’s okay, ...