Just a Little While Longer

Sweet Pea is my alarm clock these days. She's taken to sleeping on the couch again rather than in bed with Tucker and me. Tucker is too long and there are too many twisting, restless legs hogging space in blankets for a Basset to find peace. The couch is all hers, warm, soft and safe from long limbs shifting, turning her out.

I don't want to wake up in the mornings anymore. Don't feel the urgency to rush awake at three-thirty. The day is long enough. I just want to hide in the dark a little longer, stay wrapped in pillows, quilt, and dreams.

But four-thirty is long enough for Pea. I hear clicking of claws coming down the hall. Stomping of fat Basset paws beside the bed and soft grumpings urging me up, time to get up. Ruby snuffles softly and Tucker stretches long, rolls over, head cradled comfy in my knee. I hide from Pea, she's short, can't see to the top of the bed. But she stomps harder, grumps fussier, woofing impatient at me. I offer her a scratch, confessing conciousness. Finally shove back covers, morning kisses on Tucker's cheek and roll out of bed. Claws click happy down the hall, waiting patient at the back door, tail wagging Basset rump. Tucker plomps to the floor, just missing Ruby, who snorts and sighs, but won't get up. Not yet. She gets to sleep just a little while longer...