Who says dogs don't dream? I was in my own dreamland at four this morning when I was awakened by a rhythmic thumping on the bed that got faster and faster. It was startling to say the least, and it took me a minute in the dark to realize that what I was hearing and feeling was Bessie Anne's tail as she awaited the approach of some beloved person in her dream. I would not have waked her from that joy for anything. I've watched her paws move and heard sleepy little yips as she's chased some critter in a dream; maybe in her dreams she actually catches it. I've also heard the whines and growls when the dreams went bad (I will touch her then to end the fear). To dream requires imagination. Who says they are "just" animals?
I made contact with the Sheep Shearer Guy and he's coming on Saturday to give Poppy her summer "do." It's hard to hit the mark between too cold and too hot at this time of year. Yesterday, although sunny, a stiff wind blew and I needed a jacket all day. Poor old Poppy can't "layer;" with her, it's all or nothing. She doesn't have a choice, but I'd rather she shiver for a few days than suffer with the heat in a thick wool coat, and it's catch-as-catch-can with the shearer.
I beat Trash Guy to the corner this morning. It's going to be a good day!