It’s 4:39am in Seattle. My wife’s asleep in our bed, safe and warm. Curled up next to her is Prim, our nine year old rottweiler/lab. Her paws twitch as she dreams. I often wonder what my old dog dreams about. In dog years, she’s on the darker side of her 60s while in human years, I’m in my early 40s. Even so, our muzzles are the same color of grey now. What does she chase after in her dreams? I want to chase it with her. But I’m not dreaming with my dog. I’m not curled around my wife like a punctuation mark. I’m not even in bed.