Sometimes I lay, just sprawled across the ground, with Coho and Rascal. It's not a common thing here. Eskimos think of dogs as work animals, not pets. Laying with them would be an embarrassment to say the least. To most it would be a disgrace. But, alas, the old English in me cannot help but undeniably adore my wolves. So I don't care what anyone thinks. I don't mind their stares and whispers and odd looks as they drive by. Rascal's usually sitting above me. Coho lays her head on my chest. Within a few minutes they're both curled into me and all of us will fall asleep for a moment or two. Most people would call me ridiculous. No person here would dare lay with a dog. But I couldn't find happiness any more pure than my simple moments with those two furry children. I never fall asleep more soundly than I do when I lay with them. The mosquitos are of no bother, the sun doesn't ting my eyes, even the rain won't fade away my smile. Because those two simple little animals, with their wagging tails and comforting eyes, are worth every moment of I spend with them- no matter the weather or the looks of those who pass by.
