I know about Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel and The Sound of Silence.
This is me with a herder dog who has stayed by my side for over 12 years, and a a sighthound diva yapper clicker, whatever she can do to make me take her out six times in seven hours.
My Zoe does not see or care for any birds, including the turkey who lives around here and is “pardoned” every year. When the dogs sleep, they sleep. Quiet. Not bugging me for anything, not playing or coveting a bed or a ball. They settle down and it’s magical.
There’s no sound except REM sleep and chasing rabbits and squirrels in their sleep. I wish I could sleep that deeply and well. Guest dog is sprawled out near the door, she must know her mama is on a plane back to the US.
Zoe is two feet from my desk, of course, always the herder. They’re quiet. I have to do a lot of things before my husband flies home this afternoon. He’s already on his first plane.
I don’t have all the ingredients I want for a perfect weekend but have enough to make his favorite spaghetti and meatballs. It’s early. I’ve six hours to plan and prep, shop and cook but right now, shhhh, I don’t want to wake “the girls.”
Any silent moment is a gift. I am not the dog igloo that one climbs. Dee