He slept the morning away, recovering from an excess of his sort of company the day before.
outside eagerly in the afternoon with us hoping to reconnect. He grew weary as the truck wove amongst the trees depositing water and he eventually settling on the edge of the lawn.
With the day’s work finally done everyone escaped the cold wind.
His daily rations forgotten only merited a heavy sigh to remind us of what time it was.
The restless eyes became worse after the evening meal, boring into me regularly. Finally our lite switch went on. The tree watering ate up the entire afternoon and there had been no walk. He was missing his free-range run across the native prairie with his people. Warm apparel and that sunset equals lull of wind made our time special. He reminded me that it’s our happy place and we should go play in it daily.
The words found their way into my quiet head as we wound around the pasture, each enjoying the sites, sounds and smells of our “backyard”.