I slept three and a half hours Friday night. This is not particularly unusual for me. That’s partly because ever since menopause my body says: Who needs sleep? Why waste all that time with your eyes closed when they could be open? That’s what my body says to me and unfortunately, I usually listen.
So Friday night (actually early Saturday morning), I was sound asleep, having finally dozed off somewhere around 12:30 a.m. watching Stephen Colbert. Then one of the dogs started whining at 4:00 a.m. It was my Greyhound, Nellie.
Nellie happens to have the bladder of a camel so I know at that hour she was simply bored and wanted to go outside to eat poop off the hill, keeping me waiting at the back door until she has her fill. Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not exactly psychic. I know Nellie eats poop because she returns chomping on it. Anyway, I didn’t fall for her whining this time and told her to go back to bed. Trouble is, now I couldn’t do the same.
My mind started thinking of my ‘To Do’ list for Saturday and it was a long one. So I read a magazine for a half hour, hoping it would bore me to sleep. But it didn’t. So I watched a program I’d taped. Then I watched another. By 7:00 a.m. I was still awake but starting to doze off. That lasted until 7:30 when the animals decided they’d had enough rest for the night and it was time for me to rise.
And so our morning routine began…
Skip deliberately dropped his security blanket off the end of the bed, then continually clawed at the mattress to get my attention. I ignored him so he started barking. That did the trick. I got up, gave him his blanket then got back into bed. Then Nellie decided her camel bladder was full and started whining again. Callie then jumped off the bed, anticipating going downstairs. Wally stirred in his crate, looking up at me with pleading eyes to be let out.
All the cats, except Savannah, were still on the bed with me; Tippi by my neck, Oliver between my legs and Jack at my side. When he saw the dogs stirring, Jack went over to Oliver and started grooming his head with his tongue until he, as usual, became overstimulated and bit Oliver on the neck. Oliver cried. I yelled at Jack to stop it. Then Savannah appeared, wondering what all the fuss was, as if she didn’t already know.
I got up, released Wally from his crate and removed the dog gate blocking the staircase. That was Wally’s cue to run to Skip, take his blanket from him and race downstairs. Skip took off barking in pursuit of his beloved blankie, chasing Wally around the sofa. Then Callie and Nellie joined in the chase. The cats, having casually walked downstairs, watched with transparent looks that said: Here we go again. Don’t they ever bore of this game?
Then the morning tug of war began for the blanket between Skip and Wally until Skip growled with enough fierceness that Wally let go. All 4 mutts ran to the patio door, rushing out to pee on my gardenias. So much for any blooms this spring.
The cats leisurely strolled out to the patio to observe the dogs doing their business before everyone headed back inside for breakfast. No going back to bed for me. Don’t even think about it. My day had begun, ready or not. And just like in the movie, Groundhog Day, tomorrow morning will be exactly the same.
Welcome to my world.
PS…By 9:00 a.m. everyone, except yours truly, was sound asleep again.