11:53 p.m. – dog jangles collar tags together in a nervous scratch, then paws the bed until she gets “permission” to jump up. She’s often found in the middle of the bed when I get home, but with Mike in bed, she asks. Good dog. Knows who the pushover in the family is.
11:54 p.m. – continues nervous scratching until Mike gives the “up” command. Obviously, a storm is coming and she does not want to be alone, poor thing, on my good sofa in the other room. Not sure if the storm is inside or outside yet, however. Mike calls her up but then immediately gets angry with her for her many circles she must make before she can lie down. Annette worries dog will have submissive wetting thing, and she’ll be changing sheets at midnight.
12:00 a.m. – storm begins, lots of thunder, lightning, and side-ways wind causing hail to hit windows. Life is not fun for a neurotic dog and a tired woman who needs her sleep to be socially presentable in a few hours.
3:00 a.m. – storm finally over, but dog is collecting all the covers, and syncopates snoring with Mike.
4:30 a.m. – Annette finishes praying for everyone she can think of, has diagnosed the dog with post traumatic stress disorder, and again feels guilty for the time she left the dog outside in a surprise hail storm three years ago, then makes mental notes to ask vet for doggy Prozac, and finally, falls back asleep.
6:30 a.m. – alarm goes off, and Annette gets up to make coffee while dog sleeps in.
It’s a dog’s world.
Or maybe a squirrel’s… This was my front door display until several pesty guests thought they were invited for dinner. That’s ornamental corn. I hope it wasn’t treated with pesticides. Or maybe I don’t care.
