|Eddie: What's the matter with that spot, little buddy?|
Petey: Eewwww! It smells wrong - it isn't the right spot AT ALL! Don't you
Waiting for Petey to find just he right spot is a ritual which occurs many times a day. I don't really mind when the sun is shining and the grass is dry, but in the pouring rain it becomes an issue. For one thing, Sadie and Eddie wouldn't think of letting Petey go outside alone, so every trip outside means twelve muddy paws to wipe. Times that by about ten trips in a twenty four hour period and that's - let's see - 120 muddy paws. No wonder I'm so tired.
But that's not the only - or even the main - reason I'm feeling tired these days. It's not the frequent trips outside with leaky old dogs that is the problem; it's the lack of sleep. And for that I am also blaming the dogs.
I don’t do well with a lack of sleep, especially if I am woken several times. Early bedtimes are not an option – Sadie has to be fed around 11:00 PM or she will be in a state of collapse when I get up in the morning.
Petey sleeps beside me on the bed – if I try to leave him in his basket or crate on the floor, he awakes just as I doze off and begins to wander about barking incessantly until I fetch him. Once snuggled tightly beside me on the bed, however, he sleeps like a log. Unfortunately, I am always concerned he MAY wake up and wander off the edge of the bed, breaking his scrawny little legs. So he may sleep like a log, but I sleep like the mama of a brand new baby – very lightly.
Sadie climbs up on the bed for a cuddle each night, but as soon as I turn off the light, she wants to climb down – which she has trouble doing in the dark. Light on, Sadie stays, light off, Sadie wants down. I have resorted to a nightlight to illuminate her steps without playing fast-and-loose with the lamp, but it interferes with my sleep. I like a completely dark room.
|Whaaat? Ya expect me to break MY scrawny little legs? Old dogs can't see|
very well in the dark, y'know!
But that’s not all. Because Sadie’s meds for insulinoma make her pee, Sadie needs out at least once in the night, usually around three AM. Sadie needing out means four things: I have to untangle and detach myself from the CPAP machine that keeps me breathing so my sleep apnea doesn’t snuff the life out of me; Eddie will also want out even though he doesn’t need it; Petey will have to be woken up since he can’t be left unattended on the bed lest he sense I am gone and try to find me (see earlier comment re breaking scrawny legs), and twelve muddy paws will need wiping. By the time all that has occurred, and I’ve climbed back into bed and reattached myself to my breathing machine, I’m wide awake, staring at the ceiling and the glowing red numbers of the digital clock.
While Petey would happily stay snuggled in bed with me until noon, Eddie is an early morning person. Regardless of how many times we are up in the night, his inner clock tells him when it is time to wake up the household and to order the chef to prepare breakfast. He bounces over to the side of my bed, and pogosticks up and down, up and down, all to the accompaniment of his squeaky debarked vocalizations.
|Every dog needs a job, y'know! Mine is to make sure everyone|
is up at the crack of dawn!
I drag my tired butt out of bed, wake up Petey, and traipse outside with all three dogs before the chef in me can even think of canine breakfasts, let alone prepare and consume any strong, hot coffee. It is six AM, and I have had perhaps four or five hours of broken sleep.
And once again I stand outside in my pjs, shivering in the drizzling rain as I wait for Petey to find that elusive spot to do his business.
|Yeah, but ah'm worth waitin' for!|