Every now and again, I screw up like I did this past weekend and I forget to turn my alarm clock off.
Normally, I have to get up at 0330 for work. But this past week-end, I was tired after getting home after my last day at work and I forgot to turn the alarm off. No surprise, it went off as programmed at 0330 on a day that I did not have to get up.
Of course first there were those few seconds when I work up thinking that I did have to go to work. There was the requisite groan and the curse and I was about half way out of bed before it dawned on me that this was my day off, accompanied by that sweet realization I could sleep in as long as I wanted. I was still smiling as I switched the alarm off and began to lay back down...
Cue the cattle.
Murphy and Belle both run up to the side of my bed, ready to start the day. You see, they don't understand things like "days off" and "accidental alarm"--they just want two things that they're used to when they hear that sound:
Murphy: "Outside, outside, outside..."
Belle: "Food, food, food..."
Me: "Sorry guys--false alarm. Go back to bed.
Out, out, out!
Food! Food! Food!"
No, dogs! It's Sunday morning. We sleep in on Sunday mornings. Go lay down.
"Out! Out! Out!"
"Food! Food! Food!"
And now Belle is reaching across my bed to swat me with her paw while Murphy is standing beside her and vocalizing his demand with an oscillating growl. This shit is not gonna quit until I do something. A swipe with a pillow takes Belle out, but Murphy is more experienced and he just jumps back and barks at me from the far corner of the room. The pillow is thrown towards the noise but misses.
Out! Out! Out!
Food! Food! Food!
GET UP! GET UP! GET UP!
Hamsters would not be doing this to me...just saying.
Look, mutts... This stops now! I'm the Boss! You're the dogs! ENOUGH!
Out...?
Food...?
So a compromise was reached. I got up. Two dogs were put outside. But when they came back in a couple of minutes later, the house lights were not on, and there was no food in the kitchen. Instead, they were directed back to bed, and, having had their morning run around their pen, they accepted this and laid back down.
Thank God.
Of course they were both back in at seven to let me know that the sun was kind of coming up, and Sunday or no, it was time to feed the dogs and let them out onto the deck to commence barking at the neighbors, at least until they get bored and scratch to come back inside and go back to bed for the day at around 0730 or so.
Assdogs.
"This is definitely NOT four-star service..."
See? You need to be up here where sunrise isn't until after 10am, these days. House stays dark a lot longer. :)
ReplyDeleteAnd sunset is what? 10:30AM?
Delete:-)
Hey Murphy,
ReplyDeleteMy son commented on your story before I saw it...Apparently you have a fan. You are right Hamsters wouldn't roust you up at O dark 30....Just saying.
Enertaining story though. Just an idea...why don't you publish stories of Lagniappe, Murphy and Belle. You have enough material.....
*snerk!* Heh, Scooter never quite got the concept of days off or weekends either. Every day, 7:30 on the dot (I was in grade school then), he'd nose my door open and jump on the bed, taking extra care to land square on my chest. At least Bichons aren't as heavy as German Shepherds.
ReplyDeleteYeah, they're assdogs. But we can't help but love 'em, can we?
Think of the quite with Hamsters.
ReplyDeleteBut they will never love you like Murphy and Belle
They 'know' you live to serve them... :-)
ReplyDelete