On warm nights when the moon is full, the big dogs stay outside. And when they bark at the things that howl and screech, little Pete and I raise our heads to listen, then move closer to each other and wonder until we fall back to sleep.  

Blue Jays and Red birds fill the bare branches, a curious Spring. 

  

Pete wants me to sew pockets on to his new dog jacket. For provisions. 

Pete wanted to go outside. In a thunderstorm. 

I had to explain that, to lightning, he would look like a little white cloud out in the yard, and that all those big gray clouds were once little white clouds that lightning struck and turned to burnt marshmallows, because that's what lightning likes to do - burn marshmallows and stuff. 

There are just so many things a little dog doesn't know.

          

At our house, if you get up at night to get a drink, or maybe to put another log on the fire, you will lose your place in bed.


  

It is positively swell to put a dog into a dog jacket.

If you have ever held your dog close, felt its warmth and softness on your face. This is how I think love would feel, if it could be touched.