I Really Could Touch the Stars
13 December 2015
Today was a long day for both the dogs and me. I left the house at 6:45 am and returned at 6:38 pm. Booker, Faith, Gus, and Houston have the dog door. Betty White is stay-cationing at the neighbor’s house.
But, even with the custom built $1,700 dog door, that is a long time for the dogs to be on their own.
While the dishes weren’t done nor the laundry folded, nothing was chewed to shreds, knocked over, or spilled in my absence.
After supper, I attached the blinkers to their collars and we walked. With a clear sky, the stars were bright.
My long down Lands End coat kept me warm in the open space. I was warm enough to make a snow angel. Sitting in the snow, Faith, my giant Bernese leaned against me.
“Look,” I whispered, raising my hand and pointing, “that’s the Little Dipper.” She looked.
The first night I spent at Sundance, Dwight and I stood at the top of the driveway. Because there were no lights, the stars were close enough to touch. Whenever I see a clear night sky, I remember that night and all of the others at Sundance.