BFF (Best Furry Friend)

She made it to double digits, the average expected. though for some, two bigs and then a little, and then another little, she was far from average.
There was a lot of things she could not do for herself. She needed her bigs and littles to help her with stuff, like open the sliding glass doors to go outside, and refill her water bowl. She couldn't open her treat pouch, you know, no thumbs. If left to figure out how to get what she wanted she could often find a way, teeth made up clumsily for her lack of thumbs, plus she could always count on her K9 pal for assistance. Together they could work toward a common goal, like all pals, oblivious to the dismay and disappointment of their bigs for such ridiculous behavior. They were just being dogs, doing dog stuff.
For ten years of days she did dog stuff, six of them with him, her four footed pal.
For ten years of nights she could be heard tracking across the floor, nails clicking with each sleepy step. Click click click click, click click click click, laps from a bowl, and then click click click click, click click click click with each of her four paws back to her bed mat, then a breathy sigh, and quiet again.
When anyone came to the door she took it upon herself to announce their arrival, continuing her announcement until she got the all clear from her bigs. She was the welcome home each time her bigs and littles walked through that door.
She was their morning rooster crow.
She was the reason for drips from her muzzle on the floor and the reason crumbs were not.
She cost her bigs time and resources, while paying them attention. Her bigs and littles were the best part of her world. They caused her ears to tune in and her tail to relay the messages; slow wags for status quo, faster wags for piqued interest, and turbo speed wags for throw caution to the wind something really exciting is about to happen I just know it!
They'll miss the silent messages of her tail.
They will make half as many trips to the store for dog food and it will last twice as long.
When morning comes and they wake to realize they slept all night uninterrupted by her nail clicks along the floor to rouse semi-conscious sleep, they will miss her then.
The floor will be cleaner, and dirtier, and space will be revealed where there once was a bed mat.
The other K9 will look for her, and look for her again, and continue to announce visitors expecting back-up.
He'll get used to hearing only his own vocals. The bigs and littles will get used to it too, but that doesn't mean they are ever going to like it.
"She's just a dog" some would say, but she was their dog. They liked her being around, for lots of reasons.
She'll be thought of often, and remembered fondly.
She'll always be right there,
a hole in their hearts.
She's just not,
and just never was,
just a dog.
She was their dog,
their BFF.

Head in the Clouds

From my familiar vantage point here by the fountain on shuttle duty, my eyes indulged in the beauty of puffy bright white clouds against a vivid blue sky. The cloud edges were crisp, unfeathered and stark compared to the blue around and behind them. 
Between two large mounds of pristine white fluff was a blue gap the shape of the North American continent, I could distinguish this mostly because of Florida. The two moved slowly toward one another as the blue shrank away, like a gentle folding onto the other, blending into one, as if...
in a cloud kiss. 
I wished I had realized it would be so, I would have recorded the motion to review later. It was quite lovely, I was fascinated. 
I may have been equally fascinated by the fact that I was so fascinated! 
The kiss continued long and slow. 
One cloud became Thomas Jefferson wearing a typical of his time white powder curled wig. Divots and shadows created his eyes, mouth, chin and nose, clearly visible in a profile view, free of cloud wig rolls and curls. 
Who was he kissing? 
I couldn't tell. 
I tilted my head to gain a slightly different perspective. 
She wore a hat, maybe chenille or topped all over with flowers, her head at an angle. 
It was scandalous, this mystery lady. 
Really, beyond her wide brimmed hat, the only thing that showed was her mouth, busy kissing, and her nose, slowly continuously morphing, more like...
a muzzle. 
She was familiar...
yes, 
yes, that's her, 
Lambchop! 
Cloud Lambchop was wearing a beautiful ladies hat, and cloud Thomas Jefferson was kissing cloud Lambchop! 
Re-formation of the clouds continued for a few seconds until a hole opened up...
in the shape of a heart.
Off to the newly formed edge at the side, a cloud infant drew a fist toward his mouth, and a cloud bunny on haunches was ready to pounce into the vast blue.

Sometimes, in my effort to keep from dozing off during idle time on the shuttle, I have to dig deep, pull out the big guns.
A little cloud therapy helps to rejuvenate for the final hour on shift!