Tonight as we in Connecticut face another Arctic blast, Maeve and Clyde are doing the only sensible thing.  Clyde has made friends with my very warm and beautiful sweater that came from Ireland via L.L. Bean, and Maeve is lying near me for a little of the ol' body heat.  Around here, finding warm place is a full-time job as well as a survival skill.  Those of us who were born without fur coats are very jealous of our canine brothers who take our sweaters from us.  But we understand.
I wonder if their dreams are anything like mine:
It's hard not to be tickled by the thought of the ocean and all those wonderful treasures that make it a dream.