February 12, 2008

White Dog senses Spring's approach. She has been sitting on the sunny afternoon deck and is warm and doggy smelling when she comes in. The arrival of the UPS delivery guy must have interrupted White Dog's rolling in the dead leaves for when she came charging up to her front window perch to bark at him bits of organic litter still clung to her fur. We both have noticed that daylight lingers a little longer in the rush hour; to White Dog that signals the possibility that it will soon remain light long enough to play outside with Steve when he gets home.