It is good to have an Elvis in your life, especially if he looks part lion, part polar bear. Elvis lives with the goats around the clock and since he has been around, we sleep much better at night. Which is not to say that he does not keep us up all night howling at the moon - last nights full moon created the slow, monotonous bark that we’ve come to associate with Elvis’s monthly moon conversations. But he also has a bark of terror, the kind that shoots Luke out of bed in a flash, opening the window to assess what danger he senses - and there are far too many nights when our bones are chilled by the cackle of coyotes celebrating. And then there is just Elvis’s standard nightly call, which I often cant tell in my own half-sleeping state if it is Luke’s breathing or Elvis’s muffled bark coming from a far off pasture, conversing with the owls. Either way, come the morning, he is passed out after a long nights work, ready for a belly rub.
220 notes, November 28, 2012