Today, on three separate occasions, I glance out a window to see four big white dogs appearing as dead.
Turns out, my Great Pyrenees were NOT dead...Rather, they were sleeping....deeply....their first real sleep of the season...(I've no doubt they're kin to things that hibernate; I can't tell you how much these dogs love cold weather.)
Once I knew they were fine, I resumed my normal farm chore duties. They lifted their heads long enough to see it was me...thumped their tails from the ground to say "Yeah. It's you. If it's important, I'll get up. But only if it's really important..." (By the time I opened the gate with food, turns out, it was important after all.)
Honestly, we were probably closer to calling 911 in the summer months; but they weren't so readily visible then. In the heat of the summer, each dog hunkered down under the shadiest part of each rock, each tree, each free standing shed...Doing his/her best to stake out cool turf. (It's the hot that'll get 'em...The cold...? Well, cold they can't get enough of...Cold is their friend...They are just now entering their happy season.)
I head out tonight to toss one last bale of hay to the kids...
I scream "TJ!" thinking "what if I was wrong about all this?" (I kid you not. He really did appear as dead.)
But just like my first yell of the morning to Rosebud...TJ gives one solid tail thump to ground as if to say "Fooled ya." (Or else he was saying, "Finally...a decent round of sleep...")
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