Chloe, my sister's St. Bernard, is scared of lightning. During storms, she climbs into the tub, where she seems to feel safe. I, too, have a great fear of lightning, inherited from my mother, who got it from her grandmother, who raised her till about age 5. When a storm approached, her grandmother would direct her to get under the bed while she hid in the closet. My best guess is that some Irish ancestor lived on a hill in a house made of tin.
When we lived in a trailer (?!) and then an apartment, there was only one room without windows, and thus, considered safe from lightning. The bathroom. We didn't climb into the tub. But Mom and I would sit on the floor and play Scrabble during storms, while our dog watched.
You may be thinking that my sister taught Chloe to fear storms. But no, my sister loves storms. When we all lived together to care for our father with Alzheimer's, we once heard a tornado siren. My sister grabbed a chair and hurried Daddy and his walker into a closet. (Getting him to sit on the floor would have been harder.) I was stuffed into another closet with Chloe. Then my sister ran outside in hopes of seeing the tornado.