Free to a good home

Two shelties. Acting in cahoots to keep me awake the whole darn night. I am exhausted. New owner must be able to survive with two hours sleep a night.

After sleeping all day yesterday and having no problem with his plastic cone that keeps him from obsessing over his sutures, Oliver decided to start his pacing and bashing around just as I went to bed. He was frantic outside, frantic inside, bashed into everything. (I’m beginning to think he might have nightblindedness – even before the surgery, he was always bumping into things at night – doors, walls, other dogs).

Around 2 AM, I took him out on leash and practically raced him around my very large yard half a dozen times, then brought him in, dumped him in the kitchen, went into my bedroom and shut the door in desperation for some sleep.

There was silence for about an hour and a half before he started bumping his cone on the bedroom door. Bump. Bump. Bump. Got up, took him out again, tried taking him to bed with me but he wanted none of that. Put him back in the kitchen, this time with the light on. Silence until five, when Ms Belle decided to sing a serenade.

Yip (2,3,4) Yip (2,3,4) Yip (2,3,4).....

Wearily, I got up thinking she needed out. Nope, she’s still in her bed, looking at me down her long sheltie nose. Singing.

Yip (2,3,4) Yip (2,3,4) Yip (2,3,4,)....

I told her we are not amused. Sir Oliver was, for once, fast asleep on the kitchen floor but woke to find out what the commotion was about. I insisted both shelties go out in the rain to pee. None of us were impressed. Back into the house. Put on the coffee. Collapsed on the bed while waiting for coffee to brew.

Sweet silence. Disturbed only by the most bizarre dreams of a long-ago (35 years ago) ex husband, a camping trip, an antique store, and an artist friend (hey Debbie! What’re you doin’ in my dream???????), my mother, and a park in the middle of a city.

Until 7:15 when the dreaded bump..bump..bump of conehead on walls and doors starts all over again.

Yesterday I phoned every pet store within a reasonable driving distance looking for one of the new soft cones or donuts so at least Oliver's nighttime meanderings would be less noisy. The plastic ones are the pits, yet no one carries the soft ones. They are only available online, it seems – and by the time they get here, Oliver won’t need it.

I do NOT do well without sleep. Thank goodness today is a stat holiday.

And before someone thinks I'm really offering the shelties free to a good home - not on your life! But if you have a soft cone, I'll trade you for the plastic one, ten buckets of piggy poop for your garden, and my first born child. Oh, wait, she's finally all grown up and turned into a lovely woman and besides she and her husband and dog might object ........um......the neighbour's dog, that's it, I'll trade you for the neighbour's dog. The one who lives outside and barks half the night to keep the gremlins away.

Deal?

Edited to add:
And where is Sir Oliver while I type this???? Fast asleep on the kitchen floor in the exact same place he was most of yesterday - right in front of the refrigerator. The sweet sheltie diet plan. I just wish I'd taken the coffee creamer out before he flaked out.