This mornings' revelation.
Tonight an ongoing, important conversation.
She learned how to open the gate yesterday.
(not necessarily a good thing)
(unless, of course, there is an emergency)
Last night a terrible thing happened. I was very involved in sleeping through it, as was Wayne, when this 75lb. baby leaped into the middle of our bed, barking furiously. That was not emphatic enough, he jumped down went somewhere, came back and did it all over again. I woke up shouting, "Emerson! No! Stop!" My mind was a blur, nothing was making sense, I was intensely uncomfortable in the din, the crazed dog, the bouncing bed. Wayne yelled, "It's a SKUNK!" This was true! Our room (because the windows were wide open) reeked, the air thick and barely breathable. Emerson was beside himself, terrified, to be honest. I called him to me, once I had a handle on what was going on, and told him to "Lay down, Little Man." He threw himself on the length of me, rolled over and slid between Wayne and I, heaving a big sigh. Rumbling deep in his chest, he cuddled in and went back to sleep.
For tonight I ask that skunks ramble on down the other side of the vineyard, while the moon rises high the coyotes yelp and howl, and Emerson sleeps soundly all night long.
Tomorrow is Wayne's double-thirtieth birthday.