At 8:30, I went to find some papers to work on my grant - document opened next to the application to which I am to emulate. Suddenly struck by the need to rest while I was looking through the bag I keep in my bedroom, I decided to take just a brief nap. Rest my eyes - just for a few moments.
At some point, I accepted reality and placed the glasses that had been resting in my palm on my table. I was cuddled in bed, easing into a deep sleep. The dog woke me - barking wildly outside my bedroom windows. Times like those are the only ones I scowl at my lovely dog door. She likes to bark sometimes - a drawn-out howl/bark with a "wooooo" type sound. And she's free to go outside at will and make said noises.
"Wooooo. Ruff ruff ruff." She said. "Wooooooooo." Then she paused and I rolled over to cuddle a different member of my pillow population.
"Woof." She spoke softly, and I sighed.
"Chienne." I gave a warning that I knew she could hear through the wall. I don't even get out of bed anymore. I used to creep carefully out back, peering around the house and out to the street. There's never anything there. And though it wasn't yet 10PM, the neighbors have a baby. Barking should be kept to a minimum.
"Woof. Woof. Woof." Still soft, but increasing slightly in volume. I followed her lead and ended up waiting for her "Woooooo" to stop so I could shout her name followed by a firm "No."
I heard her tags jingle as she headed toward the warmth inside. "What is the freaking problem?" I asked out loud. I don't even have the excuse that I was speaking to the dog - she didn't come to see me, knowing she'd be scolded. "Barking at nothing, like an idiot. For crying out loud. Cat runs and plays - makes all sorts of noises in here. Dog woooos and ruffs and woofs outside."
But the house became blissfully quiet and I eased back into sleep. But the barking always makes me uneasy. What if - just this once - she's actually barking at something real? There have been people walking across the street - harmless, I'm sure, but a warning bark never hurts if they happen to be considering robbery or murder. And while I try to avoid the thought that someone is going to "get me" as Mom is fond of saying (which reminds me that I failed to send my evening email informing her that no one, in fact, did me any harm during the day and that I am safe and warm here at home), it sneaks in sometimes.
I had disturbing dreams, but that was to be expected. So when she woofed softly a couple of times, I smiled. I wasn't sure how much time had passed, and though I'd been sleeping, it had been marked by unpleasant nightmares. Chienne didn't want to get in trouble, I knew, but the urge to speak was irresistible. But then she started to bray at something outside the office window. It's the one that looks out onto the front porch, so I was concerned.
It's fine, I soothed myself. Don't wake up. Eyes closed, breathe deeply, staying asleep. If you get up to check, you'll be up for a while. Sleep is nice. Warm and safe.
She barked again - sharp, warning ruffs - and I blinked twice, rubbing my eyes for a second before reaching for my glasses. I hadn't deadbolted the front door after turning on the Christmas lights, though it was locked. What if the garage was open again and someone was pulling in? So I shuffled toward the living room, watching Chienne prance out of the office toward me, pleased I was moving about.
With a Lassie-esque "What is it, girl?" I headed down the hall, peeking out the peep hole to an empty porch and front walk. She whined eagerly beside me, so I continued to wonder if someone was out there. Walking back down the hall and peering around the wall, I looked out the window Chienne had earlier used. Well, presumably. Maybe she just had a bad dream and was warning other nightmares away. She does have a semi-scary voice. There was nobody out the window. The garage door was also firmly down.
"Why?" I asked the dog, still sticking closely by my side - happy to have me awake. "What was the problem? Honestly. Don't just bark for fun. It's sleepy time! Night!"
Then I settled on the loveseat with the laptop because, as expected, I'm a bit fuzzy but awake. I'm not going to work on the grant, but I did put on lip gloss and water - I remember thinking briefly I'd like to have both at some point earlier, but didn't want to wake to fetch them. I'm now hydrated, and the animals are resting around me, though I'm not a big fan of the dog at the moment.
It seems a shame to follow a post that was followed by such incredibly lovely comments with nearly incomprehensible rambling. About...how I'm awake and wish I wasn't.