So, since Jenge is on vaycay [she’s a teacher] she offered to get up with Portia if Portia had to go out in the middle of the night. Tuesday night at 11.30, I stumble to jenge’s room and open the door, and then unceremoniously announce, “She’s crying.”
Jenge rolls out of bed and takes Portia downstairs to put her out. At 1 am [I think I might have dozed for a bit, but the details are fuzzy] Jenge comes back into my room with Portia and declares:
“She didn’t even have to P-O-T-T-Y [as we spell important words around the dogs]. She just wanted to sit on the patio”
I give a grunt of outrage as jenge puts portia in her kennel. Jenge curses the latch, which she struggles with. Jenge leaves.
And the crying ensues. No amount of correction with the leash is working. Portia has decided that being kenneled in a roomy crate with snuggle blankets that is right next to the aircon is SAVAGE. AND SHE MUST GET OUT. I switch to verbal reprimands. The tone of my voice would make Nazis quiver. Portia is unfazed. By 2 am, I’m SO ANGRY that I know I won’t be able to sleep even if she shuts up. So I leave my room, and close the door behind me, leaving portiacakes ALONE [which I know she dislikes]. I surf the net for a few minutes. Update my twitter. After 15 minutes, I hear nothing but silence. I ponder going back into my room. i wonder if she has finally gone to sleep and this will wake her up, thus breaking the cardinal rule “Let sleeping dogs lie.”
After hemming and hawing, I decide to crash in the guest room. I set the alarm clock and go to sleep, on a twin bed, with my feet hanging over the end [did I mention I’m 5’10”?]
Next morning, I over sleep, not used to the other alarm clock. My alarm clock will turn off the radio after an hour, so if I wake up and hear silence, I know I’ve slept in and I’m screwed. but this one keeps on gleefully playing the radio so I kept drifting in and out of sleep thinking, “Oh, radio’s still on – plenty of time.”
I rip myself out of bed at 7.45 and open the door to my room.
I stare in disbelief at an empty kennel.
My eyes dart to my QUEEN SIZE BED WITH SIX PILLOWS WHERE A MALAMUTE IS STRETCHED OUT IN ALL HER GLORY SLEEPING!
She looks up as if to say “Oh, hey.”
Little DEVIL had SOMEHOW gotten OUT of her kennel and SPENT THE NIGHT SLEEPING IN MY BED WHILE I WAS TOUGHING IT OUT IN THE GUEST ROOM.
[NB, this picture is not from the actual event, as I was too busy frothing at the mouth to grab the camera. Trust me, she looked even more comfortable when I busted her than she does above.]