She spends her days simply: sleeping, slurping water, taking us for walks, letting loose the occasional "woof" if she hears something out of the ordinary (or if I cough too loudly).
Her days are easy, tucked away in her favorite corner in our bedroom or following her sunny spots around the house to take her naps, more frequent now than before.
I wonder what she thinks about all of us, our comings and goings, what it is we're really saying (we don't speak "woof" like she does). Where does she think we go or what happens to us when David leaves for work, Joe leaving for school, me leaving to run errands or take adventures. And then like magic, we all re-appear at the end of our absences.
She gets excited over such simple things like walks or her food dish or getting to ride in the car, even me coming home from Boxley Valley yesterday. And she's as bad as the kids on Christmas Eve, sleeping all night by her stocking and then coming over and sitting by the person who's opening the Christmas present the next morning. She loves celebrations just like all of us.
How did we get so lucky in her?