In this surreal winter – it was 40 degrees today, the big storm didn’t leave us a flake of snow – the sun burst through the clouds in the late afternoon and Fate, the young and eager border collie, dreamed of life.

She dreams of finding a hole in the gate, where she could rush to work day and night, for as long as she wished. She dreams of miles and miles of pasture, stretching to the horizon, sheep to herd for as far as the eye can see.

She dreams about chipmunks scurrying through the brush and up trees, as she gave pursuit. Of rabbits running for their lives. She thinks of her humans, bases to touch to or three times a day, things to visit, to get a scratch or hug, interruptions before racing outside and into the world and her life of joys.

She dreams of running in her meadow, leaping into the air to scatter mice, who she loved to scare half to death.  She dreams of Bernie, the UPS man, and of jumping into his truck for a ride.

And of smelly things to eat, along the pasture and forest paths. She dreamed of a world where there was no bothersome sleep, no rest, eager humans on hand to open house and car doors, to take her outside. This is the purpose of humans, she knows, o open doors to get to her sheep. She dreams of long rides in the car, which she could navigate, her nose between the front seats, her eyes on the traffic and anything that moved.

Once a day or so, she thinks of food, not much, not often, a distraction, she was not like those dogs who dreams about food. In the morning, when the food bowls come out, she is at the door, eager to get out.  She is happy to leave her food behind at the sight of work boots on people. Fate dreams and dreams and dreams about work.

She dreams about a world without rest, of moving things, of sounds only she could hear, things only she could see, of racing through the sky, sometimes on the ground, sometimes in the air. And yes, in the dark and stillness of the night, some bones to chew, some things to toss into the air before finally, and with much struggle, peace enveloped her and she closed her eyes, to rest just a bit before the next day.

In the dark of night, she dreams about the dawn, the first light. Of work.