I sit on the edge of my bed,

Surrounded by sheep…

The shearling slippers, now silent and empty in the corner, roamed New Zealand,

The the ancient oriental carpet under my toes once grazed the Middle East,

And the green plaid blanket gamboled the green isle of Ireland…

While my socks, abandoned on the floor, roamed an island of the coast of Maine.

And there in the middle of it all is the Lamb of Dog.

I sit on the edge of my bed wide awake.

And grateful.