After sitting here in front of the computer for much of the evening, I had gotten up and gone into the living room to sit with Bob for awhile, and the Golf Channel was on the television. I fell asleep on the couch and had a dream about golf and email and Florida . . . about some sort of emailed golf competition, and being annoyed that I hadn't won in the last two years, or even had a chance to make a shot, or something like that. I just love how dreams take the everyday, mundane details of life and mix them all up and spit them back out again in brand-new, weird combinations.
	Friday, May 28, 1999: Coherent Bob wasn't home last night. He had rushed home after work, grabbed his tackle box and some clothes that I'd packed for him, and rushed out again. He was spending the night at John's so they could get up early and go fishing this morning. So when I started getting sleepy at 9:00, I just went ahead and went to bed. I figured I could get a long night of sleep in preparation for the long weekend. I took the cell phone up to the bedroom with me, since he had said he would call sometime in the evening and hadn't called yet. I put it on the table next to the bed, and it rang at 10:00. I had a hard time waking up, and I remember sort of shouting into the phone because it didn't seem like Bob could hear me, or maybe it was that I couldn't hear him . . . He called again this morning around 7:00, and this time I was up and awake. He said, "Are you coherent?" and I asked him why, and he said that I wasn't last night. Oh well. At least he had something to laugh about. He told me this morning that Dakota, one of John's horses, an Arabian, had died. He was 24 years old; he had been sick, but had gotten better, and then suddenly died. His companion, Chico, a fox trotter, is distraught, of course. Both geldings, they'd been together their entire lives. I feel so sad for him. He's lost his best friend. This is a picture of Bob on Dakota last Fourth of July at John's. I've never been around horses much, and don't know much about them, but it was kind of cool being around them last summer. And I've always thought it was nice that they hung out together. When Bob got home this afternoon he talked again about Dakota (who only had two speeds, he said, "fast" and "stop"), and said that he'd spent some time with Chico and tried to comfort him the best he could. " Thinking about Chico and Dakota makes me think again about getting another cat so that Pyewacket would have a companion (or someone to beat up on other than me). She was awful last night and this morning, chasing after me and scratching my ankles, and biting me a couple of times when I tried to pet her. It almost seems like, with Bob gone, she's taking this opportunity to attempt to establish her dominance. He'll be here next week, then gone the week after that, and it will be just her and me. Usually what happens is that she's horrible for a couple of days, and then seems to settle down and realize that if she's going to get any attention, it's going to be from me, and she'll be nice and cuddly. Then Bob will come home and that will be the end of that.
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