I had a good night's sleep considering Tucker wanted out around 12:30, which woke up Pea who also decided she needed out as well--you never know what's happening outside in the dark after midnight. You can't just let Tucker have all the fun and adventure by himself! You might miss something! Tucker typically is a quick pottier--he goes, he comes back in. He's a no fuss, no muss kinda guy. Plus it's getting colder out at night and he's got short fur. He's not been blessed with Ruby's thick, lush double layer coat. But Pea, on the other hand, is the typical woman... browsing... experiencing... checking for just the right spot to pee, oh...wait...not here. Maybe...over there...I think... hmmm... or.... there?? People who know Bassets know these are not fast dogs by any means or stretch of the imagination, unless there's a squirrel involved, but squirrels are not nocturnal and so night excursions are slow....lingering...regardless of temperature or weather conditions or taking into consideration that the human who let you out is standing barefoot on a ceramic tile floor freezing their hiney off and just wants to go back to bed and pillow and blanket before they're too wide awake and are now up for the rest of the day, er, night....See, Bassets sleep twenty-three and three-quarter hours out of every twenty-four hour day and have no trouble falling asleep after a chilly excursion out to the back yard. They have no trouble sleeping during an air raid or tsunami either...They're just blessed that way. Perhaps scientists should do a sleep study on Bassets in hopes of finding help for us human insomniacs who are unable to fall back asleep once our body temperature has reached the freezing point from waiting for said Bassets to get their super slow behinds back in the house already! Just a little consideration is all I'm asking for....that's not too much, is it?
Oh, so then Tucker, who started this whole fiasco in the first place...Mr. Gonna Chew Your Whole House Down whom we went toy shopping for yesterday....decides now that he's relieved himself out of doors and is feeling ALIVE! and WELL! that it's time to PLAY! with all the new TOYS Mom and Dad bought me! YAY! Look Mom! I have a BALL! It's a SQUEAKY BALL that BOUNCES down the hall and did you hear it SQUEAK?? SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK! This is around one in the morning now...and I'm just waiting for Bill to wake up cursing--and yes, that's the swear words, not just complaining or criticizing because he does not like to be woken up in the middle of the night by bouncing balls and squeaky toys or dogs jumping on his head in sheer joy of being alive at one a.m. He does not feel obliged to restrain himself from any sort of expletive at that point, so I'm awake...in the dark...and Tucker is bouncing his ball and his fifty pound self down the hall after it and squeaks it once or twice before realizing he also has a cow hoof to chew on! And Sweet Pea is not chewing on it at this time so it's safe to go reclaim his cow hoof and lay in the hall outside the bedroom doors, chewing this hoof, which is not a quiet thing to chew on at one-thirty in the morning as it knocks against the hard wood floor between chews and gnaws. So, I get up and take the cow hoof from him and put it up in bed so he'll follow. At least it will be quiet on the comforter. But a fifty pound puppy can really shake the bed when he's chewing on cow hooves. I just want to sleep but he doesn't seem interested in what I want. He has TOYS!! So I took the cow hoof and lead him out to the couch to chew and he seemed content and quiet there and didn't come back and somehow I fell back to sleep...hallelujah and amen.
Until four a.m. and the potty crew wanted back out again, or, more importantly, they wanted their morning treats. Since we have had some fat sassy pups in our home that get me lectured on weight maintenance at vet appointments, I've had to limit treats to once a day and that's always in the morning when my brain is still thinking rationally and I can remember who's had what and how many and who's not had any because the other one stole theirs and can still patiently retrieve this one's treat from that one's mouth and separate siblings until all treats have been properly consumed, which is not as easy at it sounds. Remember we have a Basset and Bassets are not fast dogs by any means or stretch of the imagination. She will HOLD her treats until everyone else has eaten THEIR treats and then tease them...Hahaha! I still have MY treat! You no idea how sinister and rotten these dogs can be with their sad, sappy, droopy eyes and jowls and ears down to their belly buttons. Okay dogs don't have belly buttons (why?? Why is that??) but if they did, Basset ears would droop to belly buttons. She is pure evil. I don't care how sweet and cute she looks. Don't ever buy a Basset and if you do, I warned you. Evilness.
All right, so we are now officially up and out and treats consumed and coffee on and partially drank and Bible read and devotionals read and Facebook scanned when I hear this moaning from the bedroom. Not a stretching, waking up, good morning again kind of moan, this is a "Can anybody hear me dying on my deathbed??" kind of moan. So I leave Facebook to go investigate and he's in serious pain. I offer to take him to the hospital. "No. I don't know. It hurts." I gathered that, hence the offer to take you to the hospital...I shake a couple Aleve from the medicine cabinet and offer a glass of water. He decides he'll wait. Tries to go back to sleep. The doctor opens at nine. I think from my Googling that he has a kidney stone. He has a history of gout and where and how he is describing the pain, I believe that's what behind his agony. So...after I get Michael on the bus, I'll be home calling the doctor and taking my love to see if they can make him feel any better...It's definitely been one of those days already and it's not even eight o'clock...*Sigh*