We have a 12-year-old female Rat Terrier who is afraid of storms, real or imagined. She’s currently sleeping in the footwell of my desk having a bad dream.
Also we have a 17-year-old cross-eyed female ginger Tabby that we adopted two years ago to save her from being put down. She loves to go to sleep on my arm when I’m sitting on the sofa. She only weighs five pounds but I’ve found a “gentle” dry cat food that she likes and can keep down. I tell her we’re fattening her up for Kwanzaa, but she’s not impressed.
My little black dog, the girl, hates the trash truck.
The boys are at the fence barking and she is leaning up against my legs on the front porch.
I tell her that the trash truck is picking up the black can, they are picking up black things, she should go hide.
Then, when she is having one of those dreams, I go into her dream.
I whisper that the truck is picking up black things.
Then I tickle the hairs on the bottom of her paws until she raises her head and gives me a dirty look.