My blood pressure is up. I’m on the front porch, enjoying one of the last few nice mornings we’ll have to be out here and write.

My dogs, as always, are here, relaxing and waiting, for the inevitable growls or barks that will accompany another dog or a random person walking by.

We’ll have to throw Mazy in, because despite being such a sweet dog (at a hundred and twenty pounds), if she can’t immediately go up and sniff another dog, she’ll start barking like a madwoman.

She’s the definition of all bark, no bite.

Sofi will bark at anyone or anything, sometimes so violently, it’s like she’s Michael Bolton, singing, well, anything. I swear a blood vessel is going to burst on her one of these days when my father-in-law comes into the house.

Sami’s out here too, lounging, enjoying belly rubs, somehow completely unfazed by Mazy as he walks underneath her. Ares is here as well, sitting on his little grey mat, walking the squirrels search for spoils in the grass. They’ve acclimated well to the invasion of dogs into this cat house. Isis and Raiden, not as well, though Raiden has Mazy cowed and both will easily put aside any fear if they’re hungry or want petting.

This is peace, compromised. We don’t bring these fuzzies in for ornamentation; we want to live with them, to love them, to have them snuggle to us while we read or write or watch TV. We want them to curl up with us in bed. We want to take long walks with them. We want them to play.

We want to rub bellies.

The barking is just part of it, sometimes. The break in peace had to happen, sometimes.

Target: 900 words
Written: 683 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Hilarity Ensues, Tucker Max
Comics: The Magdalena v3 5-8
Music: Cutthroat, Interpol