Sleeping With Dogs

Sleeping With Dogs

It is exactly 3 a.m., Sunday morning, January 22, 2023.  Coco just leapt out of bed to deal with some intruder in the yard or on the terrace and came back to bed with hiccups. Zoe, who is too little to leap back up on the bed under her own power, is crying to be boosted up for the second time in 15 minutes, having barely settled herself before following along in her sister’s panic.

I, on the other hand, had just settled into a comfortable position on the small section of bed I’d claimed from the dogs and started the first few steps into my dreamworld when a possum or cat or skunk or mouse or squirrel or the ghost of some former possum or cat or skunk or mouse or squirrel  had deigned to enter the dogs’ domain.

Now all is right in the world and the dogs have settled. I, on the other hand, have again entered the addictive realm of the internet and here I am again, doing that tapdance of fingers on the keys. As though I don’t have enough file cabinets, boxes and folders and blog entries full of words.  What is going to happen to all these words when I die? And why is it even important to me what happens to them? In the world of words, they are also-rans. No one will hear in my words much that they have not heard before. But they are the story of my life, my world, and although it is inevitable that I will vanish, I don’t want them to. My art has gone out into the world and perhaps will continue to once I have left it in the hands of its inheritors, but my words will float back into that great lexicon of the universe to perhaps be given birth in the minds of some future soul who will sort them into a different order and make them their own.

3:14. Lights out, settled again…..and Zoe is off again, high-pitched barks LOUDLY punctuating the night air as she leaps from the bed in an arc, landing on the floor and out the gap between the security bars on the door to search out some other intruder. Once again, I leave my bed to cajole her to come back to bed.  When she finally complies, I shut the glass slider so her next protestations will at least be muffled from the neighbors. She settles herself on my lap which means I am again the prisoner  that I had been previous to rolling Coco off my lap and assuming a more comfortable position. I’ll awaken with a backache from being frozen into one position for the rest of the night, but finallly all seems to be settled. Sleeping with dogs––a bit like living with a newborn. Or two newborns. But the alternative is utter seclusion which can bring other night terrors and certainly different thoughts before finally, blessedly, falling to sleep.

This entry was posted in Essays about dogs and tagged , on by .

About lifelessons

My blog, which started out to be about overcoming grief, quickly grew into a blog about celebrating life. I post daily: poems, photographs, essays or stories. I've lived in countries all around the globe but have finally come to rest in Mexico, where I've lived since 2001. My books may be found on Amazon in Kindle and print format, my art in local Ajijic galleries. Hope to see you at my blog.

6 thoughts on “Sleeping With Dogs

  1. Sam

    Gee, I could have almost been the author of your post, with only a few changes. (3 AM is my witching hour as well), and I would bet the same routine repeats itself in many homes around the world~!

    First though- I have only one dog to worry about.. She is actually well behaved but can either smell or hear what is going on outside. Her ears go up and away she goes..sometimes using my belly as a launching pad~! But she will not start barking until she gets outside. I hear “flap,flap” three times as she exits each doggy door on her way out~! Usually it is a deer coming into the yard to get water at my koi pond, or coons after my fish, but I do worry because we have wild cats, coyotes, fox, hawks, huge owls, snakes,and other night prowling critters that might harm a ten pound dog who is not afraid of anything.

    Otherwise she and each of the two cat shave their positions on the bed, except that Tami controls her temperature by moving around. If she gets cold she works up to my tummy which is warm, but getting too hot, she moves down to my feet, and if it gets real cold she actually tunnels under the light leg blanket I have.

    As to the cats, after each gets their night petting period, then they retire to their night stations, Coco on a pillow in an open window and Eppie back down at my feet.

    Then as soon as I wake up in the morning,another petting period of scratching ears, chins, and right down the spine, each in turn, Then I go to get my first cup of coffee and there is Eppie having run ahead of me, sitting on the coffee table with those pleading eyes asking for her “segundo”, and as soon as I sit down Tami somehow squeezes herself between my thigh and the large arm chair.

    She knows that my laptop will take her place between my knees, so will wait until that spot becomes open.

    Yes we may NOT have daily habitual routines, but we are prisoners of our house guest, thank God they are mostly our animals telling us how we must live our lives.

    I can’t remember having more than one dog at the same time, except for taking care of a friend’s dog. But I have had as many as three or even four kittens or cats. In fact I am considering a new kitten right now due to both of my cats being over 10 years old.

    On the other hand my friend Ginny has a “loving cat” that turns into a raving, vicious, wild animal, and attacks her, biting and scratching her with no advance reason or warning, except that she is finished with being petted. These attacks have in several times sent her to the doctor for attention….

    I have advised her to (GET RID OF THAT DAMNED ANIMAL~!) but so far she can’t bring herself to do this.. She got the “CAT`?” from an adoption agent and I am sure that I know why THE CAT had ended up there in the first place. She has a bad seed or some other mental disorder. So what do you do with an animal with this problem~?

    One other observation in my working years I noticed that when I was in a strange country, I observed that when the natives passed homes with enclosed dogs, they did not bother with them, but when I passed they would go crazy with barking and trying to get at me… They recognize a unique odor or sound but do not bother with familiar ones~!

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