Talk to the Paw!

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

Last night was a long one.  The dogs kept barking at something outside.  I love Fall except for one thing.  It seems those animals that hibernate or remember that long winters can be hard are out in full force and scurrying all about to make sure their stockpiles are adequate for the winter.  Seriously, the squirrel population seems to have tripled recently and there are not enough “leave its” I can say to make those dogs stop worrying about all the squirrels.  Coupled with that, our neighbors have a new cat that occupies Fudge and Vern’s dreams and their waking hours are spent trying to see what he is up to over in the adjoining yard.  The cat also likes to sit under a special tree on our property, in full Doodle view, right where we come up the driveway.  It is as if Mittens is saying, “Hey Fudge and Vern, in case you forgot about me, I’m still here!” Yesterday, my neighbor tried to explain to me that the reason Fudge was barking and jumping on the deer fencing was not because she was bad or wanted to catch Mittens, it was because Fudge was being protective of our neighbor who she dearly loves.  She then went on to tell Fudge that they all could be friends, while Fudge ran around in circles avoiding my reach and yipped and yelped in what my neighbor thought was total agreement. When she finished her long explanation, I added, “Rhonda, you are really the only one who believes any of that crap.  Fudge was kicked off the neighborhood welcoming committee, because her “welcomes” seemed to be sending mixed messages!”

Well, you would think they would sleep like the dead with all the activity we have got going on around here, but I think their adrenalin is working overtime and they aren’t able to turn it off at night.  Usually it is Vern who gets us up at night, but last night it was Fudge. She kept walking into our room and back out and most of the time had her stuffed octopus in her mouth.  It can be little eerie to see your dog in the dark with legs hanging out of her mouth, especially when she seems to be letting you know in advance what she may do to any creature outside dumb enough to wander into our yard. When I got up with her and let them out the back door, Vern ran to the top of the steps and would go no further and Fudge sat down in the sunroom just staring at me with her octopus in her mouth.  I played dumb because I know this is a thinly veiled attempt to force me to let them out the front door into a much bigger and darker area.  I stuck to my guns, however, and told them I was going back to bed and they weren’t going to dictate to me where they got let out and they counter played their hand by barking their regrets long after I went back to bed.  John doesn’t like when I scream from the bed, “QUIET, FUDGE AND VERN!” because a) something about a blood curdling scream disturbs his sleep and b) since he sleeps closest to the door my screams go directly into his ears and he says I am making him deaf, so I got up again, determined to show those two Doodles who was boss.  Some would say I am putty in their paws, but I grabbed Fudge, aka instigator Inga, and told her hunting season had not started and she would be sleeping with us the rest of the night.

Hey, why am I in trouble? All I am doing is holding my duck in my mouth!

Sometimes, Fudge just needs to have her on button turned off and she seemed happy to be next to John, although I am not sure the feeling was mutual when she started swinging her paws for belly rubs.  Since I was already up, I tried to rub her to get her to leave John alone and as I was rubbing her, she continued to swipe her paw in John’s direction like I was not meeting her criteria for “good belly rubs in the middle of the night.”  Frankly, she was lucky I was not “accidentally” plopping my heavy hand down on her rear end in between rubs. She did finally nod off, but I think her paw was still on John in a last ditch effort to let all occupants of the bed know who she preferred when it came to belly rubs.

 

For all my effort, I often find myself coming up short when it comes to John.  Once when Hayley was in the hospital we were to take turns staying with her each night and John pulled the first shift.  I arrived on night two in good spirits and was promptly fired when I did not pull her IV pole fast enough into the bathroom. Apparently, it pulled the needle in her arm and she turned to me without a moment’s hesitation and said, “I want dad to stay again tonight.” I told her I could do better if she would just give me another chance and she looked at me like Donald Trump looks at the loser on The Apprentice and pointed to the door and yelled, “You’re fired!”  Actually I wasn’t all that upset that I got to go home and sleep in my own bed and if I couldn’t be the winner at least I could turn to the winner, or was it the loser, and say something gracious like, “She picked you! I’ll miss you in our comfy bed tonight!”

 

Hunting season starts around here soon and while I really hate the thought of hunting, I am thinking about donning my Elmer Fudd snow hat and giving those sleep disturbing night creatures a run for their money.  I talk big, but I know at the first look down the barrel of a gun, I would yell, “run along home and if it is not too much to ask, stop the partying after eleven o’clock.”  I have to hope that’ll work.

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

Camilla, LOL...you have a vivid imagination.

[Camilla and Darwin]

LOL, another great blog! Those cats, they are pure evil I swear. One sits right outside our house and watches Darwin from a safe distance. He usually doesn't notice it, but when he does he thinks it's there to play. Jacob and I sure notice it, and it's creepy, like it's plotting our demise.