Dreaming...

Dreaming...

Evening time. It’s dark outside. I hear something that leads me to step outside. Maybe it’s the cats. I am barely out the front door when I am confronted by two loose dogs barking aggressively. Out of concern for my cats, I shoo them away, and the dogs run away without any trouble. I walk out a little farther, by the mailbox, and I see a cat. It is very dark, but I am pretty sure that it is Ash, and I am able to grab her and pick her up, and I carry her inside the house with me. As I walk into the lighted house, I see that I am not holding Ash. The animal is not even a cat. I am holding a dog. I see that she looks like Princess, but at first I try to insist that it is Bo, as though I am trying to be bend the dream more to my liking, but the dog does not change, and I cannot deny that it is Princess, and once I accept that, I do not mind, and I am glad to see and hold her. Though, I am wondering why I am still unable to have Bo in my dreams.

Rain!

Rain! And now even the crack of thunder. I gotta hand it to our foreasters: they actually nailed it this time. They said it would fall this afternoon. We should be receiving it through the weekend.

This really makes my morning mow worthwhile, and let me tell you, it was a very tough and dirty mow. I was expecting one of those very autumnal mornings that we had been enjoying of late, but, no, it was like a July morning had snuck in on me. I was desperately looking for clouds to give me a little cover and mostly in vain. And the backyard was so dry that I ended up coated in dust and dirt; if I were white before I mowed, I think I could have passe for black by the time I was finished.

It was an ordeal. But to have beaten the rain, my efforts are redeemed.

* * * *

Funny, I never knew Coco to be so scared of a little thunder before. It's as though she has become more like Bo in this respect. She cringes and meows. Unlike Bo, though, she does not race to the bathroom to hide.