Oh, poor Miss Britt. A bad night for her! After I wrote my blog last night, I finished some work, got a stomach ache, tried to go to sleep, watched “Baby Reindeer,” and after midnight my daughter told me Britt, downstairs, was in trouble. Seemed to be having a seizure! So, she and I rushed her off to the doggie ER a few towns away, wrapped in a towel on my daughter’s lap. We were there maybe an hour or two. She seems to be suffering from vestigial old dog disease, and will, most likely recover in a couple of days. Indeed, she has improved today. She still isn’t eating or getting around on her own, but she is drinking water and taking her meds with a little doggie ice cream, thanks to the devoted love and care of my daughter Perri who has barely left her side. I slept in. It was a slow day for me. A walk, and still resting my back, no swim. One meeting, online with the lit journal I read poems for––which was really a pleasure. Anxieties and sadness over all the conflicts and tragedies. Alarmed, as we all are, about the Middle East and these terrible storms of tragedy. Oh, I think I need a good night’s sleep. Fudgey crowed his heart out under my open window but failed to rouse me this morning. Wave told his mother who reported to me that he would like our whole family to go and live on the moon. Bring a knife. We will survive on nachos made with slices of moon cheese. I do think we need more almost four year olds working on the problems of this world. We need their imagination and vision and kindness. We do need more nachos in our bellies, perhaps.