This past week I was head of the pack. Hunter, Tank and I spent a full week at Kevin and Sarah’s since they both needed to be out of town and their baby Birdy needed her grandma. As always, the sleeping arrangement was a challenge with the extra Dachshund. Hunter and Tank have been accustomed to cuddling up to me for oh…the past 15 years so we hardly think about our bedtime protocol anymore. They are old and set in their ways. They are spoiled. So am I. Birdy, on the other hand, is being encouraged to sleep in the kennel next to her parents and I agreed to work on that with her.
Of course I mustn’t be too stern, this is my only grandpup. So our first night together, I snuggle into bed about 9 pm with three dogs and an unspoken agreement that Birdy can stay as long as she was content in one place so we can all sleep soundly. We all fall immediately into a deep pack animal sleep.
Maybe an hour passes before I feel Birdy climbing over me so I swiftly dispatch her to the kennel.
At first, silence, but before long there's a pathetic little whimper from inside the steel bars. But I won't be weak and sternly say "No! Go to sleep Birdy."
The whimper continues, and finally I put the blanket over the kennel and achieve silence from within. Fast forward a few hours into a satisfying sleep, I feel a canine form, it's especially silky coated, sweet smelling...hmm it's a long and lithe daschund scooting up from my feet to my armpit . It snuggles right up under my chin as if to say "I love you" like no other than......Birdy! She settles right back to sleep there.
I'm deep into sleep so I just think "Well she escaped the kennel. She can stay if she remains cozy like this.” And she did.
Morning comes. 3:30am anyway. My tuned in 'mom ears' hear the sound of Hunter needing his early morning wee.
I respond like a pro, throwing off my CPAP gear and reaching for the geriatric daschund I love so much...but where is he? Birdy's in my armpit, Tank next to her...the rest of the bed feels empty. I had visions of Hunter having fallen off the bed, lying helplessly on the floor making his obsessive morning licking sounds...but wait. The slurpslurpgruntslurp sounds he makes are coming from....the kennel! Poor Hunter !
I put the wrong dog in the kennel and he hasn’t looked at me the same ever since.
Hunter’s look of utter betrayal haunted me for the rest of the day.
