Mornings

Because of the medicine I'm on at the moment, I often don't sleep very well. I'm all right with this fact for the most part - my body adjusts quite quickly and it's quite lovely and peaceful being up at night sometimes - I often wander around, make myself a cup of tea and stare out of a window with the hope of catching sight of a fox:

No no, not that sort.

Much better!

ANYWAY, being awake is all well and good, except when (because I am supremely organised) I've left it a few days before getting my new prescription, which means that my body is all like I LOVE SLEEP after I start on the meds again, leaving me rather tired and grumpy.

Last night was a night like that. I didn't sleep very well from about 3 a.m. onwards. Why am I telling you this? Well...

Remember Rusty? That lovely cute bundle of fur and energy?

He decided at 7 this morning that it was a good day for barking. ROROROROROFFF! RUFF! RUFF! ROROROFF! I tried my very best to ignore him. I really did. Then I let him into the bedroom to sit on the bed (which goes against all my rules, but I thought that if I did that he might sleep so that I could too). He didn't sleep. Instead, he barked in my ear and licked my mouth and nose until I had to hide under the pillow, whereupon he found my toes and licked those instead.

I thought it might be a hint - sometimes he gets panicked when he needs to do his business, and if he's really desperate, he's not patient enough to scratch at the door. So I heaved myself up, threw some jeans and a coat on over my pyjamas and ventured into the outside world.

Now, you might not have known this because you're a normal person, but it's really quite cold outside that early in the morning. Also, the only other people awake are insane commuters who work too hard (ha! That used to be me!) who are all dressed in suits, and so give you strange looks for having crazy bed hair:

Rusty went into the bushes. I was supremely grateful. Despite him forcing me to leave my bed, he wasn't going to make me smell and handle his excrement so early in the morning. The poo bags in my pocket would remain unused. He'd do his thing, and we could go back to bed. I loved him.

However, he went into the bushes with his lead on. As I've affectionately come to say, Rusty is like the rain man, only not smart. So he got a little confused when he got all tangled up in the branches. Never mind, I thought, he'll work it out in a moment. If I just tug softly he'll know which way to go. I should be so lucky. Instead, he panicked and starting whining.

So I climbed into a bush at about 7:15 this morning, still in my pyjamas and with bed hair, to drag a confused and whimpery dog out of the bush that he'd climbed into.

Where I discovered a patch of wet earth with my left hand.

My sleep-deprived brain twigged what it was. Bugger.

So I moved the lead handle into the pee hand, and grabbed the dog's collar with my right. He then decided he was no longer afraid and could find his way out back the way he'd come in. I let go of his collar, and he pushed past me. This caused me to overbalance slightly and put a free hand down to steady myself.

Whereupon I discovered his other excretions.

I love mornings.