Evening

My first night staying alone at Ivan's. Quiet so far. Sally alternates between barking at anybody who sets foot on the porch, lying flat on the floor like a chicken getting ready for roasting, and looking at me quizzically as if to say: I know you, but where is the one with the deeper voice who is usually here? Fausto, on the other hand is napping draped over the top of the couch just to the right of my head. A paw comes out occasionally and touches my hair with soft, furry strokes.