The Howling

There was a chill in the air and a misty fog settled over the creek and the rolling hills. The air was still and silent.  It didn't feel like May.  It was as if time had been suspended and we were trapped in an old, faded photograph. 

I was working on my computer, where I can look out the back sun room windows.  This gloom continued to hang on through the day. 

Then a low moan was heard.  What was that?  I looked outside, but only saw the mist.  Again.  I could not tell where it was coming from.  Then the low moan rose up and up, like a scene from "Hound of the Baskervilles" when Basil Rathbone played Sherlock Holmes, in spooky black and white.  A shiver ran up my spine.

Harry?  

Harry Spotter has the most rich and varied dream life of any dog I have ever met.  Yes, it was Harry howling in his sleep.  (He has never howled while awake, yet.)  It must have been a doozy because he woke himself up, shook it off, stretched and....went back to sleep.  I'd love to know what goes on in those dreams.