Dogs Rule

I looked in the mirror the morning and was frightened by the dark bags under my eyes. I blame it on Sugar, our Lhasa-Havanese-Bischon-ish white mop of a dog. She likes to get up in the middle of the night – sometimes several times, and I have been chosen to get up with her.

Eleven pm is “last time out,” a last call before “nite-nite.” In this cold weather, Sugar gets bundled in her smart, blue, plaid, Worthy Dog coat and sent out to roam the fenced yard. On her heels is Brewster, a Miniature Pinscher and Pumpkin, a Sheltie. Brewster is our skinny boy and constantly cold, so he has a collection of hoodies, sweaters and jackets – most of which must be pushed up to his shoulders when he goes outside so he doesn’t pee on the belly part of the sweater. Oh, and there is also his diaper which must be feverishly removed while he dances at the door, anxious to get outside.

So this happens at eleven pm. At 1:48 am, Sugar is at my bedside, barking. “Outside,” she woofs. I don’t think she really needs to go to the bathroom, rather she seems to be a nocturnal wanderer. Sometimes she is gone so long, I will be sound asleep in the chair by the door before she moseys back up the deck stairs. In the dark, I un-velcro her plaid coat, stumble back to the bedroom, hoping that Sugar is following me, for I cannot get cozy until I have boosted her to the bed and covered her up.

3:45 am. We do it again, although this time Sugar is alerting me that Pumpkin wants to go out. Pumpkin is our special dog. He’s nervous. He will easily bark for five minutes when the ice dispenser releases a load, but will stand at the outside door for an hour, waiting for someone to notice he wants to go outside. So, he has Sugar who looks out for him, alerting us to his needs. Even at 3:45 am.

Just as I crawl back in bed, the commotion has woken Brewster who peers out from deep under cover. Once awake, he HAS to pee, and there is no putting him off. It will be in his diaper or some chair leg if he isn’t attended to immediately. This round, then, is done in a hurry, because he’s gotta GO.

Then 4:32 am. I kid you not. Sugar is at the bedside barking again. This time, I know she is interested in breakfast, but I am not interested in a 4:30 feeding routine, so I ignore her hints and pretend she wants to go outside again. Up. Jacket. Out. In. Un-jacket. Back to bed. Sugar dozes for a bit, but she knows the alarm goes off at 5:30 and that breakfast will be served. Just don’t hit that snooze button!

I have been well trained. Sugar is in charge, and I do what I am told.

In a dog's life, some plaster would fall, some cushions would open, some rugs would shred. Like any relationship, this one had its costs. They were costs we came to accept and balance against the joy and amusement and protection and companionship he gave us.  -John Grogan, Marley and Me

Woof, woof-