The road is more like a deer trail. It’s late at night and cold. 20 dogs in the warm truck backed up to the kennel.

Chris Stapleton is playing on the kennel radio. The local radio station plays in here all the time, even when we are away. It’s quiet and still in here and it feels like me and Stapleton are the only people left.

I’m filling up water dishes and putting down dog food. The day started early, doing chores and taking care of dogs. A long night at work and then back to Litchfield to load up the dogs for the two hour drive north. Since Lisa died I just can’t stay at that house anymore.

Leave the kennel doors open and start letting dogs out of the truck. They all run into the kennel. Except Buttercup. Thinks she’s a house dog and she never lets me forget.

Pack in my stuff and build a fire. That wood furnace is the heart of this big old house, pumping heat through it’s arteries out to the far corners.

With the fire going good Buttercup and me walk down and get the mail. It’s black dark, I ain’t much for yard lights and there’s no neighbors. The stars are bright, but there’s more stars behind them and more behind those, pretty much the whole sky is covered with stars. You just need to be out on a cold, clear, dark night to see it.

Chris Stapleton’s story about his dog Maggie is one we can all relate to.

You tend to make too much noise. Your dog is listening for the occasional sound that means something to him. But he’s paying more attention to the tone of your voice. The way you move and what your hands are doing. He’s probably using his nose to tell him what kind of mood you are in.

He’s telling you things all the time also. Trying to make you understand. Most of the time we don’t.

I can’t help it, it’s all around you when your out running the dogs.

Chickadee’s three puppies.

The puppies were worn out after playing at the beach yesterday. One of them curled up next to Cloud for a nap while Cloud kept watch over her.