I wake.
It is perhaps
130
in the morning;
& make my way to the computer.
Old, sleeping dog,
cataracts,
deaf
& rheumy joins; she doesn’t stir.
I type-out a list of my thoughts,
from one,
it stretches to three pages
of single spacing.
It must be her nose
that wakens first.
a question-mark scent;
She takes three steps and stops.
hushed, high pitched,
I offer encouragement;
heavy tail wags, once, twice.
&, she returns to her sleep.
I continue my assessment
of the situation;
what is good,
bad,
broken.
for just a moment
I
became an olfactory dream,
suspended in the disordered consciousness
of a tired old dog.
For Nes.
Dr Rod’s Odd Blog (almondemotion) 
Worries
A wise guru once said,
“Why worry?”
“If it’s something you can fix, then why worry – fix it”
“And if it’s something you can’t fix, then worrying won’t make any difference”
“So, why worry?”
Guru….
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Very comforting to have existence contained even briefly in the dream of a dear old dog. . The worries of the deep night contrasted with the peace of the dog’s sleep and your hushed encouragement , place us right there, in our mind’s eye. Tthankyou.
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