Saturday, September 17, 2011

The Wolf Pack

I was staying with my friend Eric's younger brother in a small apartment in a converted motel in Jackson Hole while we skied for a couple days. The hotel staff left his room uncleaned because he had a huge German Sheppard living with him. The place was coated in dog hair. The brothers shared the bed in the one-room apartment, and I was sleeping curled up on the loveseat. The first night I woke up to the dog howling at least twice. I fell back asleep and didn't give it much thought beyond that the dog had to go outside. The next night I woke up several times, but instead of the dog howling on the other side of the room, it was right in my face. Then I figured it out: I was snoring so loud that the dog was pitching in with his own howl. From then on I considered us all part of the same wolf pack.

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