Dog Dreams - & other Sunday morning reflections

Sundays are made for snuggling with your dog, especially cold Sunday mornings when your husband offers to get up with the dogs and feed them so you can stay in bed. Of course, when he sends one back into the room to snuggle with you the perfect Sunday morning is set.

Caught somewhere between sleep and that half sleep state my conscious was stirred when Shelby's legs began to twitch and my hand across his chest sensed the change of rhythm in his pulsing heart. His snoring had shifted to quick breaths with long pauses in between. His eyes fluttered quickly almost in rhythm to his heart beat. Half a sleep myself all this was captured in mere seconds as I drifted deeper into my own blissful Sunday morning dreamland. I remember subconsciously whispering in his ear, "where ever you are little boy, I hope you are having fun".

I remember after Nutmeg had her spay surgery she used to whimper and cry in her sleep. Sometimes in the middle of the night I would soothingly call her name and in a soft steady voice offer reassuring words. The whimpering would stop and a soft groan or deep sigh would signal that she had woken just enough to shift positions and go back to sleep.

There is something very special in these wonderful creatures we share our lives with that we will never fully understand. What do dogs dream of? Do they process their worries and cares, joys and fantasies in their dreams?

We took the dogs to the beach on Saturday. It was a gorgeous day for the first week in December. Low tide, clear skies, warm sun, wide open beach, you couldn't ask for anything better. The dogs were grinning and laughing from ear to ear. Every muscle pulsed with excitement as we walked down to the shore. I was not the only one relishing in the sheer joy of the moment, we all felt the treasure laid out before us. My husband laughed at Nutmeg who was bubbling over with excitement at his feet. As he launched the ball out along the shore our two dogs charged after it like unfurled bolts of lightening. It was a very good day.

Perhaps Sunday morning Shelby was once again back at the beach, chasing waves and flying red balls. Where ever he was hopefully I was not far behind. Slowly my own thoughts drifted away leaving me light as a feather floating on a soft bed under warm sheets with my personal heater snuggled in front of me chasing ahead of me into dreamland.