8 week old Willow looks over at Chemayne the canary

     Chemayne with Willow. I am sit in front of the fire, and all dogs are sound asleep. Music plays quietly. A faint chirp sound, almost a squeak, comes from the vicinity of a book shelf next to me. I thought it a mouse, I have heard them the past few nights, or perhaps the finches decided to relocate their nest from basket above frig to basket on bookshelf. I found this scene instead.  Looks like I woke up Chemayne, one eye peeks open after I took first photo. Guess it is warmer by woodstove than in tree room. Pachabelle is only bird who has yet to find residence else where. He will need to relocate this week, an energetic German shepherd is coming for a while. hmm, interesting predicament.
      I took this photo of Willow on the day I brought her home in 1996, we were house sitting that summer on Nut Plains road, a few houses down from where I grew up.  Willow is 8 weeks old in this photo. A photo I cherish.  It evokes memories of a special girl, a special time, and a bond reignited. Every moment, every breath, and every movement an eternity.