It was a beautiful summer afternoon in northern central Massachusetts. Only the steady breeze that made the leaves show their pale undersides and suggested the appearance of thunderstorms later made the day comfortable. Even so, it was a hard day to wear fur, and Todd and Caff-Pow lounged in the pool of shade beneath the iron belly of the 1961 John Deere tractor out by the edge of the yard, beneath the shade of the hemlocks. The edge of the immense bucket lay resting on the loose soil mixed with yellowed pine needles from last year. The sun was directly overhead, but the breeze never let up for long and the boys were reasonably content to rest their backs against one of the enormous black rubber tires and chew stems of grass, saying little. It was the easy silence born of long companionship and countless nights sharing the same hammie, soft grey back to soft grey back, tails entwined. The breeze tossed the dazzling white and yellow daisies on the ends of their stems. Bumblee bees, dusted with fresh yellow pollen visited each and every dandelion in the lawn, and each little white puff rising from an emerald green clump of three leaved clover. The day lilies burned deep orange beneath the shade of the high bush blueberries, weighted down with clusters of berries that were still a waxy green. Soon enough they would turn a frosted blue, and the song birds would eat their fill day after day. But today was about being still and keeping cool. Of considering something and nothing, of speaking and not speaking, of closing ones eyes and savoring the breeze that kept the day comfortable, of being grateful for a cool pool of shade to lounge in. Caff-Pow closed his eyes and listened to the rustling leaves. He did not notice that his pink nose was slowly dropping lower and lower, until the end of his snout rested squarely against his chest. One deep breath tilted his head to the right and his left paw, resting on the ground beside him opened. The stalk of grass he had been holding fell across his lap, un-noticed except by Todd who smiled to see it. Caff-Pow took another deep breath and let it out with a gentle "wheeeeee!" that also made Todd smile. Soon Caff-Pow ended every breath with a gentle "Wheeeee!" and it was clear from the erratic twitching of all four of his paws that he was falling more deeply asleep with every moment. Todd grinned again at the thought and sat up straighter against the tire. Time passed. Time to consider somethings and nothings, and to savor the breeze that made the day comfortable. A sudden gust of wind blew a single dandelion puff, parachuting its seed onto Caff-Pows whiskers where it caught and caused his face to twitch, showing a little fang. Caff-Pow swept at it in his sleep with a paw, but missed. Todd tenderly reached over and plucked it away. Caff-Pow fell back into a deep doze and Todd remembered. Todd remembered when Caff-Pow first came home with the hoomins, an awkard, enormormous un-neutered kit who sobbed honking kit tears the first night he had ever spent away from his family. Todd had tried grooming him for comfort, but the kit would not be comforted until the hoomin exchanged the cage bedding for the bedding that Caff-Pow had traveled with that still smelled of his family. Todd remembered Caff-Pow falling into an exhausted sleep that first night, the enormous kit, longer and heavier than Todd had been! Todd remembered thingking "My God, he is *huge*! What if he is going to be mean? He could hurt me!" But Caff-Pow did not grow to be mean, only stumblingly large. Large enough to be an extremely challenging playmate! Todd remembered Caff-Pow's kit-hood as endless rounds of "You Be the Horse, and I Will Ride You!" Of having the enormous kit lie down full-length over him, and want to be carried. Of games of chase with an opponent who quickly grew to be twice his size! Todd remembered coming to love this giant kit, of teaching him, caring for him, watching over him. And Todd wiggled over a inch, back still against the tire that Caff-Pow was resting against. Todd gently put his head on Caff-Pow's shoulder and closed his own eyes... The bees continued the pollen harvest, the dasies continued to sway, the leaves showed their pale undersides...and two soft grey-furred companions dreamed their summer dreams in the cool pool of shade beneath the iron belly of the green and yellow John Deere tractor. [Posted in FML 6743]