“Whaaaa-Wheeee-Ahhhhh-ah-ah-ah-ah.”
“No, Kirby.”
“Squeeeee-Ahhhhh-Grrrroowll-Bufffff.”
“Noooooo, Kirby.”
It is 12:30 a.m., dark as, well, midnight, and I want to be asleep. Kirby, my puppy, kenneled right beside my bed disagrees. She thinks this is the time when all good dogs wake up and ensure that their unfortunate owners, not to mention the neighbors, need a strong dose of Tylenol by morning.
To do her justice, she got spayed yesterday, and to do myself justice, I’m being a worry wart. “Gasp! What’s that sound! (On flicks the flashlight) “No, Kirby. No lickie! Your incision will heal just great without your help.”
Incidentally, the vet didn’t send a cone of shame home with her, so in its stead, she is sporting a very fashionable t-shirt, nicely accessorized with duck tape. (Reference pic below)
Struggling out of bed, it’s into my boots and off into the great, icy outdoors, where the wind chill is keeping the mercury comfortably below -229 L. (Just kidding) Thanks to the extra clothing, Kirby feels great, thank you. Just as I resign myself to a fate as a Smithsonian ice cube display, she decides it’s a great time to practice her guard dog skills. Have you ever been outside at night, in a rural area, trying not to remember all the stories about lurking coyotes and rabid mountain lions? Then your dog starts peering off into the blackness, her hackles rising. A threatening growl bubbles forth and finally a deep, somber, “Buffffff, bufffff.” at some invisible terror.
We were back inside in a military minute, and I checked the deadbolt more than once. Finally, we pad back to bed, her looking like a baggy-shirted gangster minus the reversed cap., me looking about as dopey as herself.
I pull up the covers and snuggle in. Mmmmm. G’night.
An hour later, I’m dreaming about jumping off stair wells six flights up in a spy chase, when a small dog fitting Kirby’s description starts nipping at my heels.
“Awaaaahhh-eeeeeh”
I jolt awake. There is a dog nipping at my toes. This time, the culprit is Okey, our male dog, who also got neutered. He’s sleeping on a towel outside his kennel tonight, and it would seem he wants cognizant company in his misery.
Alas for sleep.
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