wet dogs and mad men

Last night felt like a hurricane up here on the mountain.  Big heavy trees swaying, swinging in the gusts.  Rain pelting the roof in fits and starts, lulling me to sleep between distracting dreams, bursts of wind-driven watery pellets smack the house like thunder, all yesterday, all night, all morning.  Opaque, bright gray fog cradles the tight, dry house, blocking out the rest of the world.

Someone is barking at the door.  I hear a tail thudding rythmically, hopefully, against the wall.  Two very wet dogs.  They come in and sniff my knees, they want to know what I’m writing.  Now they’ve found their beds by the woodstove, where they lick themselves dry in preparation for napping away the rest of the morning.

Statistics, English, Ceramics, I’ve got homework all around, and University applications to file and a three-hour drive ahead of me. 

And yet I took the time this morning to watch the season finale of Mad Men, with Marty by my side, barking with laughter everytime Roger said something rude.   A girls gotta live.

About Zahara

gardener, cyclist, student, mom,
This entry was posted in animal stories, college, Mendocino and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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