November 10, 2010

White Dog and The Other White Dog were at my side the second my feet hit the floor next to the bed. "We are not going on any long trips today, are we?" White Dog asked. "Not that I know," I mumbled still in the process of waking up. "Not making any major purchases, vehicle or otherwise?" Quinn queried. "Uh uh. Unless you want to buy me that Wolfe range I have always dreamed of." "No plans to walk 2300 miles with hundreds of dogs?" "Nope!" "We aren't hosting the visiting curling team from Costa Rica or planning lunch with all of the Veterans in Albuquerque?" "Gosh, if we are I better go grocery shopping!" "No really, mom, are we?" WD pressed. "What is this all about, you two?" "Just making sure," TOWD woofed as The White Dogs headed out of the room.

A while later, clean and dressed, I joined early bird Steve for coffee. "Where are the furchildren?" I asked. In response he nodded toward the front door and its floofy white Quinn sized draft catcher. "And her highness?" Before he could answer, White Dog's soft sleep snorting pointed to the lump under the blanket on my chair.