She awakens at 2:47 am, hearing her Shepherd calling her name.
So, with yesterday's mouth and tonight's' hot flashes, she crawls out of bed to the window. The blinds give way to velvet and silence. The fields outside are foggy and snow covered and the moon always lunatic like her hair that danced the topsy turning dance with her pillow.
She calls Diesel, her Shepherd into the kitchen and tries to teach him yet another new trick called find the ball in the pillowcase. Diesel looks up at her. Big brown eyes, long furry-tailed, with the found ball at his feet.
They share some cheese and crackers. Hot flushed skin and cotton pjs meet the cold seat of the kitchen chair and she pours herself a glass of water to toast to the plate of crackers and cheese she's set on the wooden floor.
They talk. She mutters her words through fingertips into thick fur. Kneading in questions. Petting in secrets. And Diesel, he grumbles back his clever answers. Universal truths. Wisdom and knowledge in exchange for cheese offerings.
He lays down at her feet walking first in circles, unwinding himself like a coil spring against her ankles and woolly socks before growing tired and returning for now to the cool wooden floor where he guards the front door and where slumber awaits him.
On another night again, he will make sure to serenade her awake for another secret rendezvous soon.
