I had intended to get to bed by three this morning, but I didn't make it. And, I just got up: Noon. Retirement! For a while I could not remember what I had been doing that kept me up so much later than usual (small joke there), but then I did: I was working on my 5+ by 3+ Prayer Book #3. I usually put each day's Mutts comic in when I cut it out, but I had gotten four days behind. Besides, I was reading Friday's Psalm (#107) and discovered a passage I wanted to transcribe. At the moment I can't remember the verse numbers. Given the claw-like nature of my w(right) hand, writing must be done carefully, with purgatorial care, so to speak, since doing so also hurts. But the verses are always worth it in the early hours of the morning. (Verses1-3; then I discovered the beginning of Psalm 108: 1-3, today's Psalm and copied them too; "Awake, my soul." Somewhat ironic I realize since by then it was four A.M.
FROLLIE
I quietly walked to the bedroom, careful not to awaken anything other than my soul, sleeping monsters, whatever, and discovered, as I peered into the mostly dark room, Frollie asleep on the rug beside my side of the bed, the right side, of course, next to the often necessary Master Bathroom. All the dog pillows are on the left side and Frollie, the Jack Russel terrier, is usually there or on top of the bed. I know she likes to sleep on top of the bed, but she had stayed with me in the living room too long. (I suspect she was being taught a lesson, for I heard Someone calling her to come back there earlier.) She has not been able to leap up on to the bed for years. Simon the dachshund should be up there, but he was not a puppy when we rescued him, so he has his own dachshund agenda: living room sofa under the shaggy blanket. I always say goodnight, kiss his head, if I can find it, and leave him alone. But tonight, well, this morning, there was Frollie, on the rug next to my side of the bed.
I whispered, "Hey, Frollie, want me to put you on the bed?" Frollie raised her head a bit and stretched out half under the bed and half out so I could giver her a belly rub, at four in the morning. Goodness! No time is a bad time for a belly rub with these dogs. I can barely take off my shoes at four in the morning or any time let alone give her a belly rub.
I patted the top of the bed and asked her if she wanted up there. That created a minor crisis. Her back legs are damaged and arthritic and she does not rise from prone to sitting positions very well. She did want up there but could not get up. She got her front legs moving but couldn't get her butt up. I couldn't get my butt down to help her, and there we were at four in the morning.
Eventually, I managed to get my knees on the rug and hoisted her rear end up, but to get her onto the bed, she has to have her front paws on the side of the bed and her butt where I can have access. From a somewhat kneeling position I managed to communicate what she needed to do. She's the most intelligent dog in the group. With a little help from me she got her front paws on the side of the bed. I put my left hand on her chest and my right hand on her tail and butt, and pushed her up so that she tumbled onto the bed and I tumbled into the side of the bed and down on my knees to the rug. Essentially, we both collapsed into our relative positions, Frollie on the bed finally, me on the floor. I was not sure how I was going to get up at that point, but there we were. And of course it struck me funny. I started to laugh as I struggled to get up. I pulled out a drawer on the appropriately named chest of drawers, put my hand on that open drawer and pushed myself up, still laughing the more difficult getting up became. But I made it into the bathroom and closed the door. If Mary had heard me she probably would have thought I was crying since I was desperately trying not to make any noise. The consequences of noise would have been terrifying to behold. Every sleeping monster under the bed, or on it, would have risen up in terrifying wrath! Whew!
Had anyone filmed these shenanigans, though, I am sure the tape would have gone viral on Utube or whatever it is that happens when something cute or stupid happens. Fortunately no one else awake was there. I hoped.
Now, working on only my second cuppa, there is another aspect to the Frollie adventures. For only the first time in a month, blame it on the weather, we took them on a before-supper walk. We of course had had our supper, but they prefer walks even to food. Usually. In any case we had done our mile (I love the quarter-mile marker disks on the blacktop. My kind of thing!). We got back home, exhausted and sore (well, I was), and just after I had changed from my walking shoes to my slippers, I remembered that I needed a case of water upstairs. I keep one of the athletic, easy to open bottles next to my bed on that chest of drawers across from me. I backed off the stairs, turned around and walked to the laundry room-pantry where we keep the washer and dryer and water and juice and cat box etc. I picked up a six pack and turned around and immediately noticed I was leaving a trail: of poop! I was tired and sore and did not want to believe that someone had pooped in the hall downstairs. How did we miss it when we came home, because we obviously did for I discovered that the bottom of my right slipper had gone down squarely on top of the offending matter. Ever ready to blame all acts of incontinence on the little dachshund, Schuster, I yelled his name. Nothing happened. He did not seem inclined to come down and leap me clean up slipper, floor or rug.
The next day, however, we discovered that it was not necessarily Schuster, for Mary had caught our beloved Jack Russel with her head in the cat box taking out a lump of stuff to eat! She ran, dropped the offending matter on the hall rug and scurried up stairs! This time we got it without stepping in it, but I see we are going to have to be eternally vigilant downstairs for this is not the first time we have discovered cat stuff close to but outside the cat box. Grrr! Appetizers, I suppose she would say.
What remains now is to find a picture of the creature and put in an excerpt that may or may not show up under the picture. Lately I am 1 for 2.
Of course all my numerous pictures of Frollie are in the drop box, which I forgot to check before I started on the description of this epic adventure. But this picture is so delightful I could not resist using it. Poor Frollie, the little shyster!