January 6, 2019

White Dog was not sure what to make of the day. It was grey and threatening to rain. Kind of an introspective day. But the light pushing its way through the misty clouds was unusual and magical. Everything seemed hypercolored.

The moods of the White Dog Army matched the weather...full of exaggerated ennui and jumpiness. There was a drive to lie in warm spots and eat noms but they were also pulled to bark at every sound or movement. When the slight drizzle began several went to stand on the deck and watch the remaining bits of snow get swiss-cheesed only to dash in after several minutes to shake drops and yap a graceless song at the glowing leaves and waterfilled paw tracks.

Now that it is dinner time and the blinds are drawn perhaps things will recalibrate to calm "normalness," whatever that is.