During the week, Louise gets up first in order to prepare
for work. Some days, I will make the effort to get up to wish her a good day at
work. That doesn’t always work out, but I always have the best of intentions.
Buster almost never gets out of bed and I suspect that he
couldn’t give a damn whether Louise is going to work, I am going to the
bathroom or the world is going to blow up. All that he really cares about is
the nice little nest that he has made in the covers that gives him shelter and
warmth. I can attest that it is a nice warm little nest on the nights that he
has made the mistake to think he will be sleeping on my side of the bed. I push
him away with little or no concern and then snuggle into the pre-warmed spot that
Buster just vacated. Sure, I think he is a little pissed off, but I outweigh
him and I fight dirty!
This morning I just couldn’t stay up so I went back and
joined Buster in the bed after Louise had gone to work. He stayed in his little
nest and I sort of curled around him, hoping that his aura of sleep would rub
off on me. No such luck! Instead, I started to think about his little nest and
the other nests that are sure to be springing up very soon.
Just outside our front window, there are a couple of birds
that have been checking out an old birdhouse that has been in the tree for
years. Quite frankly, they could do better if they located in the crook of a
tree or deep within a hedge. Their choice I suppose. Maybe they are looking for
a fix-r-upper.
Since sleep continued to elude me, I started thinking back
to other nests in my life. When I was a kid at my grandmother’s cottage, we
would spend the days walking through the fields and forest. There were nests in
the forest of course and I suppose many other underground homes that I wasn’t
privy to seeing. I do remember that every now and then we would come across a
large flattened area in the long grass in one of the many fields. I just
assumed that a cow had lain down for a rest and that was why the grass was flat.
It wasn’t till this morning that I realized there were no
cows anywhere around. The barn and farmhouse hadn’t been a working farm for
years and the last bit of cow shit had long since fertilized some weed or wild
flower. Well, if there weren’t cows, then how on earth did the grass get
flattened? I suppose that some deer or herd of deer might have slept in any of
those fields, but I don’t recall seeing any deer in all of the years I spent
there. Sure, I did carry a pellet gun and probably made the same amount of
noise as a marching band, but you would think I would have seen one in all of
those years.
This was way before the Aliens started visiting our planet
to make pretty designs in corn fields to confuse us. I guess it’s possible that
before they tried the geometric designs they made cow shaped impressions in the
grass that kind of look like the impressions that Buster makes in my bed. You
never know.
I have been thinking about this on and off for most of the day,
and there is one other disturbing possibility that would never have occurred to
me as a kid. What if Mr. and Mrs Hayden or Mr. and Mrs Fry or even my mom and
dad wandered out into the field with a blanket and did what moms and dads
sometimes do? They would make the same kind of impression that Buster, a cow,
deer, or even a horny alien visitor might make in the grass.
No… I prefer to think the grass was flattened by invisible
cows. Or Aliens!
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