I know where the sun sleeps. I've caught him waking up in the morning. He sleeps behind the hill, just past the snowshoe trail. At 10:30 each morning he takes a long deep breath of fresh air, stretches his rays out over the edge of the hill and smiles down on our log cabin. He lays a sunbeam on the couch just for me. Could a dog have any better luck than that?
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