The leaves are dripping onto each other wetly, but I wonder if they are telling a fib.
The sky is so clear and the stars are so sharp and the air is so crisp that I could embroider on silk with this morning.
Orion, Big Dog, Little Dog right there above me, clear, clear, clear sky limned with dawnlight.
First, have I told my dogs about those dogs?? We might need Dog Storytime tonight – it’s Friday!
But second, he has two dogs, Big and Little – I have two dogs, Big and Small. In Orion can I see my reflection? Even in part?
It’s the Dark of the Moon, and Things Happen during the dark of the moon, ye ken well what I mean.
Very well, then. When the Hunter Moon rises fresh, I will learn, study, read, write, follow, discern, listen to the lessons of the Hunter in the sky. My goodness.
Something very, very woofable was out there this morning.
We walked particularly early, particularly briefly, because the mundane world somehow filled up our Thursday.
But, world aside, something very, very woofable needed woofing.
I must admit that I am not terribly convinced of the rightness of that statement, as Big Dog went two ways and Small Dog went two other ways with their sure and certain woofings.
If they didn’t know where it was… then… was it there?
Perhaps it was A General Woofing, Such As Might Demonstrate the Qualifications of the Woofers.
Here nor there, it was too damned early to be woofing and the Samoyeds next door answered, possibly waking my dear neighbor; then the collection of dogs across the street chimed in, possibly waking those dear neighbors.
I am truly sorry that you were wakened.
I think that they woofed for no reason, because that amount of woofing usually means “Deer in the meadow!” and we heard no retreating hoofbeats.
To paraphrase a wonderful writer, “This dog comes equipped with a woof.”