Take Me First

This is the second week caring for our honeymooning Daughter’s and Son-in-law’s pets and although we survived, it has been exhausting (literally walking into walls). We are night owls, but Izzy is a puppy and usually out cold by 9pm and up by 4:45. She has the most remarkable sonic hearing. She can hear heidi shifting in bed (ours) as we lie, trembling in fear, that she has woken (again), which will set off a shrill, non-stop bark until we get her from her crate. Sometimes, I crawl into bed with Izzy in her room, praying she’ll go back to sleep and after vigorously licking all her paws (and mine too) she does! She falls asleep and so do I and then the cat is dropping heavy costume jewelry into a glass dish. Wait…I was dreaming, no I wasn’t, the cat (who sounds like she is dropping heavy jewelry into a glass dish) is loudly munching on giant kernels of dental kibble, REALLY? Back to dreamland. Izzy is cuddled into me (actually, I wouldn’t let her leave when she was woken by the cat) and I am breathing very deeply because it puts Izzy into a sleep trance, ? (I should question that) then CRASH, the cat misses the litter box and when it finally gets in there, we are treated to a concert of scratching and meowing, which takes forever. By this point, the light is filtering relentlessly in (through the seams of vampire shades and drapes) and I check my (lol sleep assessing) fitbit to see if it’s time to bring Izzy to day camp. (Maybe I can catch a nap later.)