So last night was Munchkin's first night here. In my heart of hearts I knew it wouldn't work to have him sleeping in a crate, but you know, they always try to crate train dogs to make it easier for the foster families when they get adopted. I also knew I already had Russell sleeping on me, and the other three dogs sleeping on the floor or chair next to me. I decided to think positive and hope that Munchkin would eventually settle down in a crate which had nice soft towels to cuddle up in, the ubiquitous teddy bear that so many puppies have bonded with, and a nice bowl of water, plus any potential light shut out by a blanket over the door of the cage.
All things in place for a restful night of sleep at about 11:30.
Yeah. Right.
He didn't cry for...oh...at least 10 seconds. Then he started wailing. But I expected that and decided to let him cry it out. The rest of the pack and I went into the living room to settle in for the night.
I actually did go to sleep and wondered how long I'd been asleep when I woke up and it was still night and he was still howling.
It was 12:15.
Well, screw crate training. I brought him into the couch with me and he settled in happily in the crook between my shoulder and my neck, biting my hair. This was NOT exactly comfortable for me, but he was quiet; I could cope.
Then Scrappy, who had been sleeping on the floor next to the couch and who has never let me pick him up to put him on the couch, decided he wanted to join the rest of us. So there we were--Scrappy and Russell on my feet and Munchkin dozing off, chomping on my hair, curled up on my neck.
I'm sure there was a time when Walt was disappointed that my back problems made it painful for me to sleep in a real bed, but I suspect that with the advent of "pack sleeping" with all these dogs, he's relieved that I sleep on the couch!
It was still dark when I woke up. My neck was killing me and the other dogs had managed to roll all the blanket up under them, leaving my bare feet exposed to the cold air. I also had to go to the bathroom. So I lay there for about half an hour, trying to decide which was worse--getting up to pee and waking the dogs or risking an accident, freezing my toes off or waking the older puppies, moving at all or letting Munchkin continue to sleep.
I actually lasted about half an hour before I finally decided that my bladder and my toes and my neck really couldn't stand it any more and that it was unlikely that in my present state I was going to be able to fall back to sleep, so I got up. And so, of course, did all three puppies (Sheila and Lizzie have been able to continue sleeping until they want to wake up, which is about 6:30...a courtesy, I might add, that they do not extend to me on days when we have no puppies in the house and I feel like sleeping late!).
We all went, en masse, to the backyard for a pee-in (I waited until I got back in the house; I knew you'd want reassurance of that), then I did my business in the bathroom, settled into the recliner and was immediately buried in dogs again, now relieved and ready to finish out the night of sleep.
I started watching a program I had recorded on DVR, but it was only 15 min. long and the remote fell out of my hand onto the floor, where I couldn't reach it, so I had to either wake them all again, or watch whatever infomercial was going to come on after the DVR program. I did that instead.
As it was already 5 a.m., the infomercial I see from time to time, an apparently 30 minute program advertising a "male enhancement" product didn't seem to be on, which is too bad because I've been thinking I should really watch the whole thing just to see how totally outrageous it is.
I haven't watched enough of it to know if this is an appliance, a topical preparation, or a pill, but all I know is that the men who have used the product diligently are delighted with the results, and so are their giggling female partners.
Who agrees to be interviewed about something like this???
But then I remember the beauty product which was being sold thru an infomercial. The celebrity sponsor of it was Victoria Principal who introduced "her veterinarian" to give testimony on the efficacy of the product. I'm sure people think veterinarian="older woman." And Principal's veterinarian obviously had beautiful youthful skin, a glowing endorsement of the product.
Only Principal's veterinarian was Paul's widow and wasn't even thirty (I think she was about 26 or 27) at the time she did the infomercial. So I never do trust infomercials, though I'm not likely to be intrigued (other than for purposes of material for this journal) with anything said on an infomercial about penis enhancement products anyway!
Eventually, morning came and we all got up to start the day. I walked with my head tilted to the side because even in the chair, Munchkin likes to sleep on my shoulder where he can munch on my hair. I guess I won't even pretend to put him in a crate tonight but try to arrange the bedding on the couch a bit better so that I have a fighting chance of staying warm, and sleeping as long as possible, given the ridiculous circumstances.
(Note Munchkin on my shoulder)
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