LIttle Buddy

I've been sewing up a storm...in my downstairs workroom (or "girl-cave," as The Mailman calls it)...making goodies for my Etsy shop.  It's very peaceful down there...and I enjoy the solitude, especially on a rainy day like today.  However, the usual peace and quiet of the morning was shattered by an absolutely blood-curdling-heart-stopping-animal-caught-in-a-trap-wail emanating from my little dog, Clyde.  I raced up the stairs to find him at the front door, desperate to go outside.

So, I let him out...because, what else am I gonna do? 

I watched him hesitate on the front walk...sniffing the air...seemingly confused.  There was nothing out there to warrant such an outburst.  I've been concerned about him.  He's thirteen years old...almost completely deaf...and he's been battling a respiratory infection for the past week or so.  It hurts me to see him aging.  He's my Little Buddy...and while his sister's heart belongs to The Mailman...Clyde loves me most of all.  I am his Hooman.  Bonnie ambled over to stand beside me...and we watched him together.  I said, "Why don't you go outside and check on your brother.  I think he's losing his marbles."  So...out she went.

It was then that I turned, and saw...out the large back window...the rather burly guy in the yellow safety vest, dinking around with the phone box on the backside of the house.  Apparently, they're going to bury the fiber-optic cable that's been laying across the back yard since last Fall.

Sorry, Little Buddy.