spike

This morning's dream involved, somehow, opting for a double helping of otters. I believe I checked a box for 'extra otters,' and this meant that a forest over which I had some great and unexplained authority would duly be stocked with twice the usual allotment of wiggly, water-loving mustelids, as if the forest had been a latté ordered with an extra shot of espresso. Though I had no idea what the standard otter allotment might be, I nonetheless woke feeling optimistic, even peppy.

Then, in the forenoon, a casual glance out the window met with the sight of a young buck on the roof of the adjacent garage. He did not see me. He made a leggy clockwise circuit, sniffing the tar paper with unhurried interest, but, finding nothing compelling, then stepped off silently into the trees, vanishing in seconds. Perhaps he was disappointed not to have found it a two-deer garage.