Fergus’s post-pine-cone trauma is just about over (er, yes, it has been an entire month) . Early this morning, E.g. and I both missed the pre-dawn chuckup whimper, which means we must have slept fairly well for once.
I was up at 05 30. I like to rise at this hour. I opened Fergus’s crate, put the barfy crate blanket in the washer, gave Fergus his puptobismuth, fed him his first kibble slurry meal of the day (we’re down to five now), cuddled him a bit, made my coffee, and read my blogfriends’ latest reports. Ahh.
At 07 30, E.g.’s usual rising time, I called Fergus to come upstairs with me. Adult dog Cai, with bed privileges, was curled into my pillow. E.g. opened one eye wide enough to aim her arms, and picked up the pup. Then she snuggled back into oblivion.
After a jealous yap or two, Cai settled once again on my pillow, a flank against E.g.’s shoulder, and Fergus curled up against her ankles. Obviously, I couldn’t just stand there and watch the three of them snooze the morning away.
So I stopped watching. I lay on my back in a comfortable X shape, with my ankles hanging off the edge of the bed. My right arm linked up with E.g.’s left, my left palm supported Cai’s head, and my right calf pillowed Fergus’s chin. Both dogs were still abutted against E.g., so that the four of us made a cozy trapezoid. And in five minutes I was asleep. Deeply in sleep. Not in worries about the puppy, or anxieties over work, or despair of ever being able to save up for a house, not anything but connection to my chosen family and then not even that, just quiet, black, deep peace.