On Valentine's Day James and I slept in. Both of us had the day off and I decided on the spur of the moment that on a day normally devoted to the wishes and whims of females that we would do what James wanted to do instead.
It was not much different than what I would have wanted to do. We drove to Coeur d'Alene and began our usual routine. Driving around talking. Coffee. We went to Wal-Mart and laughed in the candy aisle about the box of chocolates cheerfully capitalizing on the moustache trend. Nothing says romance like a cartoon moustache, right?
Finally after getting separated three times in a health food store we made our way to dinner at a local restaurant that serves the best steak around.
After starving ourselves cranky their food was manna from heaven. Mozzarella sticks, salad and soup, and an enormous steak with loaded baked potatoes were our fare for the night. Tantalizing red velvet cake and a not-too-overpowering petit Syrah topped off our meal.
Later when a food coma had us nestled snugly in bed Molly began to bark. And bark.
Usually she barks at cats prancing by or dogs she longs to play with. Not this time.
We had visitors.
For the next couple of hours, three elk grazed on our lawn, unfazed by my photography or the dogs barking.
Eventually we tried to settle down and go back to bed, but Molly was just too unsettled and slept in the crate. She needed a cozy place far away from distracting elk.
And like any good guest they knew when to leave. By morning they were gone, off to torture more unsuspecting dogs and their sleepless parents.