10-21-2021, 06:22 AM
To recap, Maeve can no longer hop on the bed. It's been years since she could. Plus, our bed is particularly tall. What Maeve does instead is put her front paws on the bed and look to us to lift her the rest of the way onto the bed. We are well trained. You will get no argument from on that count.
Lately, (last year or so. maybe longer) Maeve cries or sings once I turn out the lights. She's fast asleep before the lights go out. But once it gets dark, the whimpering/singing starts. After a few beats of that, I get her off the bed and send her outside. She usually stays there for a couple of hours, sometimes all night. She also comes back in and does her let me on the bed schtick. This maneuver is accompanied by whining and crying to wake us and alert us that she needs to be back on the bed. Again, she cries when the lights are off. So, once she is back on the bed, she settles quietly for a few minutes before the whimpering singing begins. On some occasions I can ignore the noise that gradually grows more pathetic. At other times, I kick her out of the bed to go back outside. The darkness outside does not concern her. The only noises Maeve makes from the back yard is to bark at intruders of which there are many.
Some nights the dance of Maeve on and off the bed can be pretty tedious. Last night was an exemplar of this. I don't I have slept because of the dance. But last night there was an added complication. tQ just got back from her biopsy in Los Angeles. This entailed ten hours of driving. The surgery coupled with the driving left her exhausted. She promptly went to sleep. I think Maeve took this as a challenge. She ramped up her crying to 11. Every twenty minutes or so she wanted up on the bed. This was closely followed by the symphony of sighs. This made me throw her off the bed. But she wouldn't go outside. She would just lay down next to the bed. Sometimes this works. Maeve will lie down on the floor and be quiet for the night. Not last night. She'd be on the floor waiting until I had just fallen asleep and she'd make the call for assistance.
Why don't I just lock her out of the room? Excellent question. That used to work. But Dani has taught her crying outside the door will get us to open the door. And again. Maeve cries loud.
Now, this is the typical madness. Last night we added a wrinkle to the scenario. tQ was down for the count. Usually we take turns with the madness. Or more generally, I ignore Maeve and tQ deals with it. But last night I took on full chores, trying to keep Maeve from waking up tQ.
I failed miserably at one point. Maeve jumped up on tQ's side of the bed as Maeve usually does. tQ was sleeping at the edge of the bed as tQ usually does. This works out well for Maeve because she hits tQ and wakes her doing this maneuver. That happened this time. Only, Maeve hit tQ right in the chest at the spot where she had her biopsy. A pained cry emanated from that side of the bed. The cry was not pretty. Maeve was unrepentant but I did manage to shoo her away from the bed. I asked tQ if she was all right. She wearily said yes.
There was no more sleeping for me after that as I had to make doubly sure Maeve didn't jump up on that side of the bed.
Lately, (last year or so. maybe longer) Maeve cries or sings once I turn out the lights. She's fast asleep before the lights go out. But once it gets dark, the whimpering/singing starts. After a few beats of that, I get her off the bed and send her outside. She usually stays there for a couple of hours, sometimes all night. She also comes back in and does her let me on the bed schtick. This maneuver is accompanied by whining and crying to wake us and alert us that she needs to be back on the bed. Again, she cries when the lights are off. So, once she is back on the bed, she settles quietly for a few minutes before the whimpering singing begins. On some occasions I can ignore the noise that gradually grows more pathetic. At other times, I kick her out of the bed to go back outside. The darkness outside does not concern her. The only noises Maeve makes from the back yard is to bark at intruders of which there are many.
Some nights the dance of Maeve on and off the bed can be pretty tedious. Last night was an exemplar of this. I don't I have slept because of the dance. But last night there was an added complication. tQ just got back from her biopsy in Los Angeles. This entailed ten hours of driving. The surgery coupled with the driving left her exhausted. She promptly went to sleep. I think Maeve took this as a challenge. She ramped up her crying to 11. Every twenty minutes or so she wanted up on the bed. This was closely followed by the symphony of sighs. This made me throw her off the bed. But she wouldn't go outside. She would just lay down next to the bed. Sometimes this works. Maeve will lie down on the floor and be quiet for the night. Not last night. She'd be on the floor waiting until I had just fallen asleep and she'd make the call for assistance.
Why don't I just lock her out of the room? Excellent question. That used to work. But Dani has taught her crying outside the door will get us to open the door. And again. Maeve cries loud.
Now, this is the typical madness. Last night we added a wrinkle to the scenario. tQ was down for the count. Usually we take turns with the madness. Or more generally, I ignore Maeve and tQ deals with it. But last night I took on full chores, trying to keep Maeve from waking up tQ.
I failed miserably at one point. Maeve jumped up on tQ's side of the bed as Maeve usually does. tQ was sleeping at the edge of the bed as tQ usually does. This works out well for Maeve because she hits tQ and wakes her doing this maneuver. That happened this time. Only, Maeve hit tQ right in the chest at the spot where she had her biopsy. A pained cry emanated from that side of the bed. The cry was not pretty. Maeve was unrepentant but I did manage to shoo her away from the bed. I asked tQ if she was all right. She wearily said yes.
There was no more sleeping for me after that as I had to make doubly sure Maeve didn't jump up on that side of the bed.
As a matter of fact, my anger does keep me warm