Here Comes The Sun

As the Beatles sang, I never imagined my life as it is. When my husband is home and we’ve our old dog Zoe I lift her up to the bed at night, all 32 lbs. of her. If the shades are up when the sun starts coming up (in summer before 5 a.m.) she jumps down and becomes UBD.

UBD is under bed dog. She comes to my side so I can’t get away as I am the morning person and food wench, and she crawls underneath our sleigh bed to get her beauty sleep. I don’t know anything that 20 hours of sleep per day wouldn’t cure as she’s gorgeous. In “people years” she’s got nearly 20 on me.

This morning at 6:45 a.m. I felt a paw holding onto my arm. Lo and behold, it’s guest dog L. Zoe was sound asleep on my husband’s pillow. Yes, shades were down halfway so they can see and I protect the art. “Hey, Aunt Dee, get up, I want to go out and have my dinner!”

I got up and took them for a nice walk and fed them then they played and went to separate rooms to soak up the sun (they heard you, Sheryl Crow). Zoe asleep, no sun. Zoe awake, all sun until noon when there is no direct source, only reflected.

Husband will be back this weekend, so will L’s mom to take her home. I was wondering how we would all sleep together but there’s no need. They return on the same day. How’s that for planning?

Our guest, I looked up the breed, is a mix of Borzoi and Whippet. When Zoe and I are alone on a walk everyone pets her and says this Aussie mutt is cute. When we’re with L everyone says “She’s beautiful, what kind of dog is she?” I’m expecting a rush for purebred dogs like L in our neighborhood shortly. Perhaps I’ll stop saying exactly what breed she is.

Now, if a magic elf (not the funny, enigmatic Will Ferrell) could somehow do our taxes all would be well. Cheers from Dee, Z and L


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