Then you look up from your book, and you see this:

Like Carl Sandburg’s “Fog,” they crept in on little cat — er, dog — feet.

I never did determine what they were looking at, or hearing, or smelling — and they weren’t talking. But it wasn’t the cat, or any other living thing, so I didn’t give it much thought.

And neither did they, apparently, because they gave up a few seconds later and — again like Sandburg’s fog — moved on as quietly as they had arrived.

The cousins — to each other, not to me — are Dixie (on the left) and Spunky (just visiting), on the prowl last week. They were always good for a laugh, which is more than I can say for the daily news; so tonight I thought I’d ditch the doom and gloom for a few hours and share a little light-hearted observation with my readers for a change of pace.

And now “to sleep, perchance to dream.” (You know I can never resist a bit of Shakespeare.)

Catch you later, most likely with my comments on some real news.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
10/21/25