Xena, our red-and-white Border Collie, is a very dignified lady. She is graceful, composed, quiet, and always seems together. If she were human, she would be Grace Kelly. (Peaches, on the other hand, would be Lucille Ball.)
Even Xena’s sense of humor is quiet. She loves to come up very softly behind me while I’m doing the dishes and, ever so lightly, touch her cool damp nose to the back of my knee. That has to be Dog Humor.
The only time when she descends into cuteness is when she’s asleep. From the time she was a tiny puppy, she’s slept with her widdle pink tongue sticking out.
I can easily translate this look. “Go away and leave me some privacy!”
Okay, Xena. And the next time you’re heading an unruly heifer, I won’t tell her about your widdle bitsy pink tongue.
No fires last night. Billy got up at three o’clock and made a round of the ranch, just checking on everything. I asked him what made him wake up and see the fire Tuesday night, and he said he didn’t know; he just woke up and there it was. He has a feeling for these things — which is a very good thing.