The Little Pack

Some of you may remember the first afghan incident. Since then, the saga has continued. Somehow, Cheyenne has adopted my favorite afghan as her own. My husband’s grandma made it for me when we were first engaged.  It is super fuzzy and soft and just the right size. The other animals have all tried to adopt it as their own and failed. Through the years I have successfully fended them all off. Cheyenne, however, is a different story. If I have the fuzzy afghan, and she has a different one, she will paw at me until I switch with her. The first time, I gave it to her because I was curious to see if that’s really what she wanted. Oops. That only reinforced her behaviour. Now it is a pattern. Further, somehow I find myself carrying the blanket from room to room for her–to the bedroom at night and to the living room during the day.

So I realize this isn’t the best photograph. I have friends that are unbelievably gifted and I wasn’t able to capture the falling snow, however, there is a certain peacefulness about this picture that I really like. It makes me want to curl up in the chair by the window with a blanket and the fireplace going. Maybe because that is what I was doing when I took this photo. When I was small and couldn’t sleep my grandma would have me visualize this exact scene–the window, a couch, a fire and outside the snow falling very, very softly… I would fall asleep so peacefully every single time. And then she would wake me up in the morning with kiss on the cheek and the kind words only a grandma can say. It is so hard to believe that she is gone. I miss her everyday.