Waning Moon at the OK Corral

Look who's sleeping now.

It’s four a.m. and though I’m not really awake, I’m not really asleep either.  There is something outside nagging my senses but it’s not yet enough to pull me from the sheets.

It’s five a.m.; I am startled awake by a deep, growling, “Woof!” and scratching at my bedroom door.  Roam, my gentle giant, is telling me I need to intervene in the nonsense going on in the back yard.  There it is… the nagging sound that’s been haunting my sleep for the last hour. 

Pig-pig, our younger dog is under the deck with some creature that is terrified out of its mind.  Pig has been barking for the last hour at a consistent rate and her voice sounds hoarse.  (Pig-pig is not her real name but it’s what we call her due to the constant snorting sound she makes.)  Roam can hardly contain himself until I get the door open so he can investigate.  I holler at Pig to quit it and she just keeps barking.  It’s an alarming, steady bark and she doesn’t even hesitate at the sound of my voice.  So, I follow Roam around the side of the house and hear a small sound under the relentless barking.  Pig has something cornered under the deck and she’s not going to let up until it has a stroke or dies of a heart attack.  I can’t identify the pitiful creature by the tiny terrified sound it’s making but I sympathize with it. 

I can’t see what’s going on under the deck and so my crazy lady instincts kick in.  I storm into the kitchen, grab the broom and stomp out onto the deck.  In my pajamas, with my hair all askew, at 5 o’clock in the morning, I start pounding the deck floor with my broom and hollering at Pig to cut-it-out.

Boom, Boom, Boom.

“Pig-pig, stop it!  Now, get in the house!”

“Woof, Woof, Woof!”

Boom, Boom, Boom.

“Pig!  I said now!  Get in the house!”

“Woof, Woof, Woof!”

Boom, Boom, Boom.

At this point, Roam has lost interest and wants to go back to bed.  I’m starting to sweat and just want the barking to end.  I start thinking about how these things always happen when my husband is out-of-town and then I lose my mind, a little.  I rap the broom on the deck floor once more and scream in my crazy lady voice, “Piiiiiiigggg! Stop it!”  And, she stops.  “Get out here,” I scream, pointing to deck by my feet.  And, she comes.  “Now get in the house,” I say through clenched teeth.  She lowers her head and blinks her eyes to avoid looking at me.  She starts toward the door and just before she gets to me, she makes a quick dart back toward the edge of the deck.  “Pig! NO!” the crazy lady yells.  Giving in, Pig-pig goes through the doorway, panting.

It’s 5:10 a.m., Roam is asleep, Pig-pig needs a drink of water, and I am


A Blanket on the Ground

Get the Ball

Yesterday was beautiful though the day started aimlessly and a little bit sad.  Steve and Jessie showed up in the afternoon and we brought out Grandma’s green and white star quilt to sit on the sunlit grass in the front yard facing the road.  Motorcycles and convertible cars cruised past as we played with the dogs, tossing them bits of cheese and sending them racing after an orange tennis ball.   We ate ham and roasted asparagus and devilled eggs and had wine.  The boys wrestled in the fresh-cut grass and did cartwheels just like when they were little. The fresh air, filled with bird song, made us drowsy in the sun.  It was a perfect spring day.