As I went to hang my laundry this morning, Moose, of course, came to help. He rolled. He kicked his back legs. He talked a little. He yawned. He tooted. Up came the belly for a good rub, which, of course, he received in spades.
Then, I went back to hanging laundry.
The clothesline is behind the Mister's motorcycle building (note: you are in trouble if there are enough motorcycles to warrant their own building), and it is about ten inches off the ground in the back. Remember, this is the mountains and very little of our land is level, so this is quite normal. Most folks underpin their buildings like this, but this particular one hasn't gotten the deluxe treatment yet. So, it is not unusual to spy a rogue hen or a mouse or even a skunk every once in a while underneath it.
As I was humming "Morning Has Broken" and pinning up my clothes, I heard a low rumble. I looked up. Nopers. Not thunder. I continued humming and hanging the laundry. There was another rumble, a little deeper and more sustained.
I looked around the yard for a stray dog. Nothing.
"Well," I thought. "It must just be Moosie." And I kept on hanging up clothes.
Ruuuuuuuummmmmmmmmmmmmbbbbbbbbbbllllllllllleeeeeeeeeeeee.
That got my attention! With all the bees, we have had the occassional bear scare. I glanced from behind the building at the hives. Nothing. I heard it again, long and low. It was under the building!
Carefully, gingerly, cautiously, I got on my knees and peeked, ready to dash in a moment's noice.
Anabelle II was snoring.
She was very annoyed when my laughter woke her. Now I wonder, should I tell her she snores??