The dogs sleep in the garage. Most people have a knee jerk reaction to this news until they see “the puppy condo.” Their condo has a door out to their yard, a lot more than we have, and they can go in and out as they please. They’re living the life while we, the cats, are stuck inside all day long, because Mother is concerned about coyotes.
And it Begins
Slumber Party Sleepover Night always begins with a conversation between Mother and The Dutch Man that ends with the warning “you won’t get any sleep” and the assurance of “of course I will, the dogs are great.” Cosmo and I laugh and laugh as we settle in to watch everything fall apart.
The potty breaks always start off okay, until Sydney hears something and the dogs threaten to take off to investigate. Pride keeps Mother from screaming their names (can’t let The Dutch Man know that they took off) so she whispers loudly “Rod Ri GO, Syd NEY, BLUE” – to our surprise, the little heathens actually return.
A two minute potty break turns into 20 minutes. No sleep yet.
On Slumber Party Sleepover Night, Mother turns the sectional into a dog bed. Mother sleeps on one end, Sydney sleeps behind Mother’s legs, Rodrigo sleeps in the turn of the sectional, Blue sleeps on the opposite end or in the chair.
At some point in time during the night, Sydney adjusts 90 degrees, pushing Mother’s legs off the sectional until Mother repositions her (she never wakes up).
Blue will come over to cuddle with Mother and return to the chair when he gets too hot. That’s when Rodrigo, 3x the size, decides to take Blue’s recently vacated spot.
No sleep yet.
Cats vs Dogs
To reflect our protest of Slumber Party Sleepover Night, we wait until everyone is settled into their spot, toys put away, dogs sleeping, Mother having just taken a sigh of relief, because she pulled it off. One of us (last night it was Cosmo’s turn) walks quietly downstairs, stands in the middle of the family room, and belts out a loud “Meeeoooowwwww,” then take off for the stairs (giggle), because all three dogs will be on top of us in moments, Mother swearing as she realizes that she gets to start the “night, night” process all over again.
Serves her right for taking away the one time of the day when we can wander around the house unmolested by slobbery canines.
By 3 am, everyone is sleeping (The Dutch Man was asleep at 10pm and missed the night’s fun). 6 am arrives quickly, heralded by Sydney(weighing 70 pounds) standing on Mother’s chest. Lots of yawning and stretching as Mother scoots the dogs out to their yard, stumbles upstairs to refresh our food, and falls into bed, groaning when The Dutch Man asks “how was your camp out?”
It’s mornings like these that I kind of like The Dutch Man.