A dove saunters through the grass, picking here, pecking there, finding tiny particles of interest. A brown thrasher flies down, all business, finds something, pecks, flies off with it. The birds are busy but much quieter now. They all have babies to feed and are about the serious task of building families.
I sip my coffee gratefully, knowing it has a mighty big job to do this morning. You see, I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep last night. Why? Because at 3:00, Nemo woke me, poking me with his nose, not barking, but a deep, almost inaudible whine somewhere deep in his throat. Groggily, I let him outside but he wanted back in. So, in he came. I settled down to sleep and poke. Poke. More nose. More dog. He was plainly nervous, unsettled, scared. He wasn’t this way during the fireworks. He didn’t like them, but as long as he was inside, he was okay.
I checked the internet. No recent earthquakes. No tornado warnings. Everything seemed the same, except Nemo. He’s too large to climb up on my lap, but he would have if he could have. I have a feeling, though, that, on my lap or not, he would not have settled down. Scolding didn’t help. Petting didn’t help.
Plainly, he didn’t want to be in the house. Did he want to be in the yard? I opened the door and out he went. He slept in a deck chair until daylight and then he was all right with coming back inside. So, what caused this strange behavior? I don’t know. It’s a bit eerie, I’ll admit. I just hope it doesn’t get to be a habit.
The birds have flown to other places. Nemo is back to normal. Everything seems fine, except me. I’m sleepy. It’ll take at least two or three more cups of coffee for the world to stop looking blurry this morning.
Manos Mysteries
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