Snorgled…that’s the only word I can think of to describe the experience of sleeping with a red-nosed pitti’s face pushed tightly into the crook of one’s neck while she makes constant sounds that are somewhere between a snore and a gurgle. This, of course, is accompanied by copious amounts of drool, the occasional snuffle, an ear wash or two, and a few shoves and pokes with the paws into rather tender places.
Baby, a very scared little pitti spending the night with me before going to her forever home, is doing just fine. After her sound sleep and my not-so-sound one, she decided 4:30 was the perfect time to get up, chase the cat, go out for a bathroom break, have an intense and startled look at Martin the alpaca (“What the HECK is THAT??? Some kinda giant poodle? Whoooaaaaa, guy, yer mama must be putting steroids in yer feed!”) who calmly stared back without moving from his spot at the pasture gate (“Oh yeah another dog we’ve seen a few come and go. Get me my grain, would ya?”),
And so here I am, unable to get back to sleep, dog slobber on my neck and a cramped back from twisting around Sadie who also decided that if Baby was going to sleep on the bed, so was she, at least for part of the night.
But if snorgling was what Baby needed to do to feel secure, then snorgling she was going to have.
Tonight she can snorgle with someone else. Fortunately, I know that her new forever home allows dogs on beds, and has six very nice kids who are going to love a sweet pitti face shoved into their necks at night. Happy snorgling, Baby!
Baby, snorgler extraordinaire.