I'm momentarily startled to find my always-moving husband sitting in a chair, but quickly realize that even with his chin resting against his chest he's not napping.
I sit in the chair beside his, his hand in my lap, not stirring until at last Heimdallr finds me. He drops another rat at our feet then gently touches Lou's knee with his nose. He sits then lays down on the floor, nose between his paws but eyes on mine.
"Yes, you're right," I say to him and push myself to my feet. I pick up my trowel and bring the rat to the recycler. There are a few others at the edge of the corn and I collect those as well.
Lou is going to be harder.
My knees click as I walk back to the house and there is a dull ache in my low back. Those things are always there, but it's as if without seeing Lou, tired
