There is something about observing one’s dog while it sleeps that brings a calming effect — at least for me.
When I watch Rosie sleep, innocence comes to mind.
I think back to when she was just a pup.
My mind conjures up images of her that are imprinted in the neural paths of my brain.
Images I had long forgotten.
She dreams apparently. At times she has begun barking in her sleep as I watched. Paws mimicking a run toward whatever she’s barking at, they move only from her knee. The rest of her body lies still.
If it were me doing the dreaming, and I was running, only my big toe would wiggle.
That’s assuming I was doing the chasing.
If I were being chased in my dream, my legs would be flailing. Ask my wife.
In her dreams, I think Rosie always does the chasing because her countenance feigns a hint of aggression as she barks and moves her paws.
It must be nice to be the character who is in control when one dreams. To be any other character would qualify a dream as a nightmare I suppose.
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