last night after plopping into bed from exhaustion, my dog (who just had leg surgery and is on strict bedrest orders) starts whining and getting all amped up. thinking he wants to spend time with my husband (who is in the living room, staying up late to watch some important basketball game or something), i open the door to let him out and collapse back into bed. well, the dog keeps going crazy so i scream out my husband's name. he doesn't respond. so i scream out again. and a third time. silence. laying there for a second, i wonder if it's worth getting out of the soft sheets -- what if he had a stroke and needs attention? sigh. get out of bed. enter the living room, no one there, and my dog is at the back door pacing (so much for bedrest). i join my dog and peer out the window, and what do i see? my husband, shirtless, wearing bicycle shorts, black dress socks, and nike frees (he was cycling in our living room while watching the game), using a rake to claw at our dogwood tree. our cat is on the very end of a branch, arched back, hissing, while the neighborhood orange cat works to avoid my husband's persistent rake.
another day, another dollar. another cat fight, another night in our household.