I really don’t like Monday’s. That first day back after the weekend. It’s always busy and everyone has the Monday blues and would rather be back in bed. I especially don’t like Monday’s when I have to go to work when I’ve only had three hours sleep. The reason I only had three hours sleep is courtesy of my lovely Labrador….. however lovely is not how I would of described her at 2am this morning.
So it’s Sunday night, its around 10.30pm and I decide I’d better go to bed. I let the cats out for the night, lock the doors switch everything off and head up to bed. The dog decides to stay downstairs as she appears to be all comfy on the sofa. So I hop into my lovely cosy bed put the TV on timer and get all warm and cosy. Just as I’m drifting off to sleep I hear the dog start wimpering from downstairs. I ignore her for 10 minutes but then the wimpering starts to turn into whining and then after another 10 minutes we start with the full blown barking. Up I get and downstairs to find her sitting looking all forlorn by the door. Someone needs to relieve themselves. The only problem being, is my dog will not do her business in her own garden, which is marvellous as you never end up taking the bins out and end up knee deep in dog shit. However I wouldn’t of cared last night at 11.30pm when you’re in your pyjamas and just want to go to sleep.
Right, open the door and let her out and hope that just for once, she’ll do her business quite happily over by the weeds. The ones you were planning on killing off, but never got round to it and now frankly cant be arsed. No. She sits at the gate whining, so not wanting her to start into a full blown barking episode and wake up the entire neighbourhood, I pull on my boots grab a coat and throw it on over my pyjamas and I’m out the door.
There’s no lights on anywhere apart from the street lamps. Every sensible person is in bed fast asleep preparing for dreaded Monday morning. Not wandering the streets in her pyjamas with knee high boots looking a bit like a cross between Rupert the bear and a character out of Fraggle rock. We wander up the road, the dog sniffing every single blade of grass until I hear this wailing coming from behind a wall. Surprise surprise its one of my cats. I say Cats but for those of you who know me well, my cats are not the normal size of a domestic cat. They look more like the offspring of a Saber tooth tiger. They do not miaow softly to come in, they do a full on wail, slightly resembling the sound of a strangling scene from a horror film. So the cat decides to come with us. So I now have a whining dog, a wailing cat and would like to point out Pavarotti owl from my last sleepless night is still in the tree outside my house clearing its throat for its next performance.
The dog still hasn’t done her business, so after 10 minutes we turn round and head back towards the house. It feels like there’s something above my head I look up just in time to see a swarm of bats swooping towards my face. I’ve never really seen a lot of Bats before apart from when one got stuck in my house once and my boyfriend at the time thought it was just a large moth. Well I tell you, these bats were not like moths more like bloody terrordactyls who seemed to be taking a fancy to my head and making high pitched squeeking noises. So there I am, now running along the road to get away from the flock of squeaking bats, with the wailing cat and the dog who’s barking at the bats and the cat ,but still hasn’t managed to open its bowels which is the whole reason why I’m standing here like bloody Dr.Doolittle in my pyjamas at God knows what bloody time at night.
We go back home. I’m knackered. The dog is still wimpering the cat settles down and I head off back to bed. The dog starts barking again, then wimpering then back to barking. This routine goes on for the next two hours. Its so bad that I actually do some ironing to pass the time. Its now gone 3am and delirium has set in. I am now so tired. I now believe my dog knows something I don’t. They say animals can sense things….. maybe there’s aliens about to invade earth, zombies have taken over the whole of Yorkshire or someone’s shot Donald trump…..maybe not so far fetched.
The last time I looked at the clock it was 3.28am. I woke up to my alarm clock going off at 6.20am, curled up next to a peaceful looking sound asleep dog. I’m so tired I think I may need sellotape to hold up my eyelids. Ironically the dog wont wake up. Not even for food which is totally unheard of. She wont even get up to go for a walk before I head off to try and make it through a day at work without falling asleep on my patients.
But tonight as I write this, the dog is sound asleep, the cat is curled up next to her and I am heading to bed before I pass out. Everything is peaceful and calm. Here’s to a full 8 hours sleep fingers crossed. I wonder if they do doggie diazepam?…………..Goodnight x