Nancy and John left on a trip last night, so Emma is with us for the next ten days or so. I've been working quietly here at Nancy's house, with the dogs for good company. Uncharacteristically, they actually played with each other early this morning in my backyard, chasing each other over the piles of snow, leaping and boxing at each other.
As I've worked today I keep forgetting to restart the CD player when it stops. The song I've been humming a lot lately (Flow Gently, Sweet Afton) is one that Emma particularly likes. I was singing it softly here as the dogs nap nearby. Maybe it's just because she's a retriever and all the birds in the poem sound very tasty, but when I got to the part about
"Thou stock-dove whose echo resounds through the glen;
Ye wild whistling blackbirds in yon thorny den;
Thou green-crested lapwing, thy screaming forswear..."
Emma was dead asleep but her tail started WHACKING the floor like crazy. Hunter looked up like "what the heck is wrong with her?"
The 'caught in the act' part was when they came out into the living room to help me sort some papers, and for just a few minutes actually pretended to like each other...
...whereupon as soon as I took the picture, Hunter got up and pointed his nose in the corner and pretended Emma didn't exist, or me either for that matter.
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