My plans were all messed up when I awoke this morning. Rather than the usual time outside and a nice refreshing breakfast, we ended up sleeping in late. And I mean it was late. You see, the clock had made it’s song at the appointed time and was quickly silenced by the smack of a hand. And after that, there was more snoring, loud and robust, which echoed throughout the house.
Since I could no longer sleep due to the extreme sound violations ringing in my ears, I decided it was time to get up. However, the old man was not with me on this plan. I nudged his hands at first, but they were tucked under the covers where I could no longer get to them. When I went to cold-nose his nose, he parried with the pillow, cutting off any further attempts.
This was getting serious. The old man never does this…unless he’s got the sickness. Yes indeed, his tummy was obviously upsetting him or perhaps he’s got the coldness. Whatever the issue, it needs to be resolved and quickly.
When the old man refused to get up, I knew I had to do something. I sure couldn’t sit here all day long being bored. So I considered some things that would persuade me to move it and tried them out on him.
So I brought him some toys. The squeaky ones are a pretty good waker-upper and they were the closest to the bed. I snagged a few and brought them to the old man. My carrot and the wiggle worm where nearby, so I scooped them both up and brought them to the bed. This did not seem to stir the old man until I demonstrated the squeakers. But rather than a standing ovation, I got the very confused and baffled grumpy look with only one eye open. But that one eye said a whole lot of things. I needed to try something else.
With my first attempt a no-go, I tried the one lone squeaker that I’d removed from an old stuffed toy that had worn out. This one was the “wheezy” one. It always got a laugh for some strange reason, and it was worth a try.
The wheezing sort of matched the old man’s snoring, and I got pretty good at my timing. At least for a while. The old man did stir from the safety of his covers just long enough to eye me with that one eye, telling me that he was not entertained. I explained that I was not here to entertain, but to call him to awaken. With a grunt, he returned to sleep, obviously not at all thrilled with my plan.
An idea came to me. If he was feeling so down that he didn’t even want to be disturbed, the only way to get him up was to bring him up. I brought him my bone. It always made me feel better when I chomped on it, or at least it took my mind off feeling down. Maybe it would help him do the same thing.
My bone, my most favorite bone since the last one that was my favorite, was carried up onto the bed and laid next to my friend. I could still smell traces of tasty flavors hidden away within, but if it would make my friend feel better, he could have them.
I nudged it a little closer. The scent was obviously not getting to his nose. I forgot that he doesn’t smell the way I do. Both ways I think. But don’t give him any ideas because that might get me into the bath, and that’s no reason to get him up.
What I ended up having to do was get the bone and drop it right on top of his face-lump. He was hiding beneath the covers, so this was an obvious obstacle in smelling the bone, but if I put it right on his nose, at least the lump where I think his nose is, he should be able to detect it.
No sooner had I dropped the bone that the old man sat up, glancing around the room in utter surprise. It had to be the sweet surprise of how awesome that bone smelled. Indeed, my plan had worked. The old man rubbed his nose, staring carefully at me, and then at the bone that had fallen back onto the floor.
With a huff and a sigh and a sneeze, the old man wiggled out from under the covers and into his slippers. We shuffled out of the room and down the hallway.
“Alright!” I yipped, “let’s get going!”
My plan had worked. At least for the moment. After we went outside for a bit and had a short breakfast, the old man returned to his spot, covering up with blankets. Even more blankets than before. And with all that extra cover, I think I’m gonna need a bigger bone.
Jason Duron is a short story writer and author of several fiction stories. Curious and lovable as dogs can be, the Adventures of Rocky, Nixi, and Dante give you a chance to see daily life from a “dog’s eye view” and share in their thoughts. Please enjoy, and we hope that you’ll feel free to comment and give us insight into your dog’s very own adventures.