Waking early on the farm, anyone up can enjoy the sun peeking up over the mountains. The grackle birds are on the feeders. Their thin, legs looking too long as they walk their feathered sheen bodies about. Old man winter worked hard through the night to beautifully cover each blade of grass. If one would capture his perfect artwork with photo, the picture would surely lack in desire. Fog drifts lazily over the creek, appearing unafraid of the morning light.
Out burst us pups to enjoy the crisp morning. First, me, Daisy, the English Bulldog. I search the ground for any new smell, then go to the fence to watch the birds swoop down. My sister, the blue heeler/collie is not as gentle. She races to the fence to sound out a bark. Oreo ruined my show, scaring away my feathered friends. Being an avid bird watcher, now I will have to go in search of a stick. I look for the large groundhog that lives under the outbuildings. Patrol the yard, then quietly sit at the back door. Momma will let us in and wipe my big paws. Maybe I will chase the tennis ball back under the chair. Or enjoy a warm nap on the sunny couch.