Something was out there last night, but it's not there now. I was awakened at three-something this morning by a dog barking frantically over on Irish Acres. About the time I realized what had waked me, two shots rang out. In my drowsy state, I feared for a moment that they'd killed the dog, until Dog gave a couple of triumphant barks and I knew Man had hit his target. I've been hearing talk of black bear sightings and I wonder if that's what it was. I've seen no tracks nor scat. Rumor has it that bears are being relocated here from Yosemite. We are just over the hill from National Forest land, so I suppose that's possible.
Bessie Anne is sleeping on the bed behind me, having puppy dreams. I've seen her paws move as she runs in her dreams, heard her whining at some dream fright, but she must be back in puppyhood this morning as she is sucking away like crazy. Strange little dog.
Tom came yesterday to pick up milk and eggs. He's considering building a coop to keep chickens in his back yard. Like many townships in this wretched economy, regulations have been raised to allow this in Placerville. Of course I took him out to see the Silkie Taj; a prime example of ingenuity, built by Craig without blueprints. As we stood talking, the temperature plummeted and fog started creeping down the hills. In ten minutes, the gorgeous, sunny day had disappeared and we were shrouded in gloom. This morning there is a full-fledged storm raging and I was disinclined to take the trash down to the big road in the driving rain.