I woke up scared and restless at 3AM. Without saying a word of request Gibson knew, and jumped into bed with me from his spot on the floor. He sprawled in the hollow place against my chest, curling his spine into it and I held onto him. I fell asleep to his long sigh and was grateful for the dog. When I woke up I was still holding on and he was still fast asleep.
I live with cats, have been raised with them, but never once has one came to me in comfort and then sighed into me as I held on for dear life.
The blog of author Jenna Woginrich of Cold Antler Farm. Jenna is a 33-year old full time writer. She writes about her adventures following her dream life as a homesteader, archer, falconer, equestrian, hunter, spinner, and low-rent cook. Follow along, it never gets boring!