Sunday, July 5, 2009

Sunday Mornings



So, what in the heck do you do when you're awake on a Sunday morning at 6 am and can't go back to sleep? I don't mean that I can't go back to sleep in that I'm not sleepy. No, I mean that someone, or something, won't allow me to go back to sleep because I have to watch that someone, or something, every waking moment that it is moving around.




I guess I should explain. I'm babysitting the PuppyMonster this weekend while OS is out of town on a bachelor party. And, btw, since when did bachelor parties turn into vacations? No, they don't just go out for one night of drinking and debachery, they now make an entire weekend out of it, and they have to leave town to do it. I'm getting off track here. Like I said, I'm babysitting, or is it puppysitting, the PM for the weekend. Well, one thing OS forgot to teach the PM is to sleep in on weekends. At 6 am sharp, I heard him. I thought "you've gotta be kidding me." So I lay there thinking he'll shut up and go back to sleep. But, no, he persisted, so I got up, took him outside, he did his business, we came back in, I fed him, he gobbled up his food in about 10 seconds flat and looked around for more as if to say "is this all I'm getting?" (OS did give me strict instructions about 1 full cup 3 times per day). Then we played for awhile, and when I saw that he was not going to tire anytime soon, I put on a pot of coffee. I was really hoping that he just wanted to pee, eat and then go back to bed, but that was wishful thinking. We went back outside where he peed and pooped again, came back in, played some more. I considered giving him a half a Benadryl, but didn't.




Fast forward an hour and a half later, and he just laid back down (in the corner behind the chair), but not after he played with everything in sight, every toy OS sent for him (he packed a little goody bag for him full of toys), my slipper, the tie to my robe, and the fake rocks in the fireplace. He even ate a few of those. I think he has puppy ADD. The funniest thing was that he kept going back and forth from the kitchen to the laundry room to get toys out of his bag. He'd play with one then get tired of it and go get another. Sometimes he'd come back with a dirty sock, but that was ok.




He's zonked out now, but I've had a cup of coffee and been awake too long to fall back asleep anyway. Oh, well, Wimbledon will be on in 30 minutes, and Andy needs me today.

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