Lost and Found

Nothing says morning like coffee, but this morning, I forgot all about the need to inject caffeine into my veins. It was only him I wanted to drink; the handsome curly haired brown boy that visited me in my bed last night sometime between the hours of fall asleep and wake up.

The deep throat intention of my dog licking every inch of my face and his feeble attempt at douching my nasal canal couldn't break the spell of my dream boy either, but out of necessity I did what I always do first thing if I don't want to deal with pulling out the spray bottle of deep clean Resolve pet stain remover; I got dressed, put on my sneakers, and walked out the door to do the mile loop we do every day anticipating the first sip of coffee with every step.

Right after bagging up my dog's poop in the same spot where he lets loose every day as if it was his God given right, my dog heard the rustling before I did, sidelining him from executing his customary one two scratch into the dew laden morning turf with his paws, but it was his raised ears that told me we were no longer alone.

Out of the bush, there he was. With curly brown matted fur, wagging his tail and whimpering, in dire need of a meal, a bath and a home, the stray dog looked up at me with his golden brown eyes as if I was the owner he had dreamt about last night on his quest from nowhere to right where he was supposed to be.

"Who's a good boy." I said. And he followed us home, as if he knew the way.

No longer lost, he was found in a dream, landing safely into the heart of a dog lover.