The Pirate is temporarily out of town, so I was up until way too late last night, my mind spinning itself into whorls of what if and coils of couldashouldawoulda. As a result, this morning at sumpin o'clock, I dreamed that I looked out my kitchen window and saw the dog from next door running away from the chicken coop. I ran out to the chickens and as I came around to the gate, I saw four dead chickens lying there in the yard. There were a couple more further into the yard, and there was a ruckus in the henhouse from the few remaining.
I shut the gate, only to be confronted by two black mastiffs. They were angry at being left outside, away from the chickens. One of them bit me through the chicken wire of the fence, and although I didn't feel the bite, I was outraged that this dog had bitten me.
I woke up and heard the only slightly more peaceful sound of Cargill crowing to be let out. The chickens were perfectly safe inside their fortress, and would be so until I got down to let them out. For some reason, though, the dream really scared me.