Another Visit from the Dog Goddess

Sailor here.

The Dog Goddess visited me again last night. She wanted to take my picture. I woke Mom in case she wanted to get me ready. When she gets me ready, she brushes my kilts and ruff and tummy and feathers. She trims my toes and brushes my teethies and does tickly things to the bottoms of my feet with her little scissors. Sometimes she grinds my toenails, too.

But Mom said she wasn’t getting up at dark o’thirty to brush me out. She told me to go back to bed. I went.

Then Jib got up to see if Mom was going to give him cookies. In the light time when the Dog Goddess comes, Mom tosses cookies to us. Mom didn’t toss anything last night. Except herself. She doesn’t dig a nest in her blankets like I do. She rolls over and over and over again.

Jib came over to my bed. He nudged me. “If the Dog Goddess wants to take my picture, do I have to get ready?” He sounded worried about missing out.

I told him it wasn’t like Come and LeaveIt. We didn’t have to have our pictures taken if we didn’t want to or if Mom didn’t want us to.

Jib still wanted his picture taken because he thinks he will get cookies. Mom tossed herself over (again) and told him that he wasn’t remotely ready. His ruff was knaughty, his feathers were tangled, and his kilts had bed head. And she was going back to sleep.

Then the Dog Goddess threw ice at us. Mom said the Dog Goddess throws ice for good luck, like throwing rice pudding at a wedding. Or something like that.

There were some loud noises, too. Like jet planes on a cloudy day. But louder.

Jib asked what the noise was all about. Mom said it was the Old Man snoring. Then she tossed herself over (again) and started snoring. She will tell you she doesn’t snore thank you very much, but she does. Really.

The Dog Goddess went off with the Old Man and left us with just rain. Fine with me. No cookies, no pictures, no reason to stay up. Zzzzzzzz.