Barking at the neighbor lady painting her garage in her pajamas
But, may I translate?
“You there, Sis,” (it’s how the cool girls talk)
“Good morning, and for God’s sake, how long’s it been? How many seasons, since you thought to come out here and throw some color around? Those Days you were gone didn’t deserve you…paintbrush and passion put away.”
Given the dog’s sixth/sense, she knew what the lady’d replied, “un-aloud.”
“First of all, it has been cold, and my hands were shaking. And, countenance and confidence shattered, how could I breathe, much less beautify?”
“And secondly…?” The pooch -amused- persisted.
“Secondly,” the artist offered, “those Days that did not deserve me? Like rungs of a ladder, under my feet they are now. Nevertheless, here am I, despite the cold. Good day, Collie.”
Walking away, back to shade’s solace, the canine’s congratulatory caution, “What, with your whimsy and will, and wonder and wit, the cold may try steal you the morrow.”