Free from Metaphorical Hypothermia

Friday February 21, 2025

Good morning, that wonderful way.

The Sun starts to show, starts his show; daylight says good morning.

So do I. O/

Abe thought the shadows in the yard needed chasing away last night.

He wasn’t quiet about it.

Something a dog can see, can sense.

I let him out to send it off a few times.

All that came of it was an hour or two of sleeping in for us.

Maybe.

I trust him, so I’m sure something was accomplished: Preventative Medicine.

Like wearing a hat, gloves and heavy coat in the Winter, a simple choice to ward off unwanted ills later on.

Abe: This dog doesn’t cry wolf.

I thanked him and slept an hour later free from metaphorical hypothermia.

Right now is for practical things; Abe asks to be fed.

Least I can do for a good friend is to answer yes.

Take care, trust a friend, and make a better day.