Morning Gone to the Dogs

28 Mar

Oscar woke me up three times last night.

I don’t recall the exact time the following events transpired, but I distinctly remember waking up to the sound of Oscar’s nails tap tap tapping on the floor, which just grew louder and louder until the noise came from directly beside my bed. I peer over to make sure I wasn’t dreaming the entire thing, to make sure Oscar isn’t standing expectedly at my side.

Sure enough, there is he.

When Oscar gets out of bed and makes his way to my room in the middle of the night, he usually wants two things:

  • He wants to graze because my dad probably snuck him something he
    wasn’t supposed to eat when I wasn’t looking.
  • He’s scared and wants to sleep with me.

I decide to go with option two because I have no desire to wait outside while my little cow nibbles on foliage. I partially remember placing his bed in my room, tucking him in and mumbling a groggy good night.

Good Night Oscar

Bed time!

The second offense occurred shortly after his relocation. I remember waking up to Oscar’s low, rumbling woof in response to the neighborhood dogs. (Isn’t it amazing what one cat can do to a neighborhood of dogs?) At one point he emitted two short warning barks before my mom hushed him back to bed.

Oscar drifted right to sleep directly after his early morning shenanigans. I wish I could say we both slept peacefully, but only one of us got beauty sleep last night.

Two guesses who that might be. I’ll give you a hint: One of us snored and it wasn’t me.

Despite my lack of sleep, I’m neither irritated nor infuriated with Oscar. I rolled out of bed this morning in a sleepy daze to find Oscar waiting, tail a-wagging. Drowsiness is nothing a cup of coffee and a bright-eyed doggie can’t fix.

Peek-a-boo Oscar



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