It begins like any other morning. I am lying in bed… it is quiet. I am listening to the rain outside the window holding the Viking’s hand and snuggling with the cat. I am thinking, I am so glad I live where I live and grateful for what I have. “Happy birthday America”………..

Then in the distance I hear what sounds like the battle cry of an Indian war chief galloping on his mustang toward our bedroom. The cat starts to growl in my ear. Then in an explosive moment the bedroom door bursts open, Tater is squealing as he jumps and lands on top of me. Then right behind Tater is an airborne rain-soaked 75lb black lab pup who strategically lands in our bed on the 50 yard line. In all the excitement the cat digs her claws in my jugular vein while letting out a fierce warning howl.

The Viking rises and with the voice of Odin clears the room with a flash of lightning. ….. all is quiet… a gentle rain outside the window.

Like I was saying, it is July 4th. It is 7:58 A.M. EST. I am lying in bed grateful for what I have and that I live in a great country. Happy birthday America!

In case you were wondering, her nickname for me is “The Viking”, and her nickname for Boo is “Tater”.  Yes, we live on that ragged edge of madness.