Full Moon Alert.

Billy Bear the morning after the night before.

As a Cancerian I am used to the effects the moon has on my moods. Quite literally 'a loony' at times, full of beans, dancing around the kitchen, singing at the top of my voice, usually to Oasis tracks, Cigarettes and Alcohol and Live Forever being firm favourites. Then at other times quiet and fragile, thoughtful.  Away with the fairies on some days while deep in serious political discussion the next. Of course, I suppose I could simply be described as a 'moody mare' and have been in my time, yet the big white globe in the sky provides me with all the reason I need to exercise my attributes.

Today however I just feel cream-crackered.
And the little boy pictured above is to blame.
He is not a Cancerian, he is a Taurian so has no real claim to being affected by the moon, well, other than being a dog and therefore related to the wolf, and we all know about their relationship with La Luna.
Billy didn't spend the night howling; he spent the night jumping. Up and down. on and off my bed, and on and off the body sleeping on that bed, i.e. me, all bloody night long.
Not delicate, light jumps that even big dogs seem able to do but great big dramatic leaps into the corners of my room followed by frantic scratching on the floorboards as if trying to reach Australia followed by eerie silence before repeating the performance, repeatedly. This behaviour went on all through the night of the January full moon.
Ironically called the Wolf Moon, I should have prepared myself.
I must have slept at some point because I woke up feeling shattered, Billy's face on my cheek his eye staring into mine.
He did look sorry, or I just imagined that he did.
He didn't seem keen on rushing out for his early morning walk, he was obviously worn out, so I did his hot water bottle for him, and he clambered up onto the sofa for a nice long sleep.
I spent the day wandering about in a bit of a daze.
Until he woke up of course, even more full of beans than usual.
Loony.