November 7, 2015

White Dog answered for Steve when I asked "Who is THAT?" "Ferguson," she said identifying the owner of the deep single WOOF demand that came from outside.

"Really?" I responded rather incredulously. then there were a whole series of WOOFs and Woooooos. Steve peeked out of the still drawn blinds to the yard and then pulled the cord to move them aside. "You have to see this."

I moved to the end of the bed and looked out.

Ferguson and Zsofia were in the yard playing chase. She would run a bit ahead then turn and chacha back toward him; he would charge forward a few passes as he barked. She turned tail and ran forward again. He hurried up the ramp and blocked her passage; she sang a tease before jumping over him and hustled in through the dog door.

Ferguson lost his desire to play and has not had much to say since he made himself sick late in the summer. We have watched for months as he slowly recovered his physical health, and then his mental wellness. His opinionated noises and joyfulness are exciting to behold as they after so long, reemerge. .

Our boy was on a roll. When he followed his sister inside he headed for the kitchen and stood at the kitchen counter looking up at where the breakfast bowls are stored. Zsofia stood at is side. Steve was doing some fussing and missed Ferg's significant reminder that it was time to eat.

"WOOF!" Ferguson announced. "WOOF!"