It’s kind of a Dogs of Doom story with a dash of Doom Dreams thrown in. It’s a Dogs of Doom Dreams post! Might have to start a new thread.
Maeve has lost her mind. She is kind of crazy and needy to begin with, but the last couple of months have been extra special. As we go to sleep at night, she starts on the bed. While we read, she sleeps. Ten seconds after I shut off the lights, she hops off the bed and heads for the outside to sleep in the garden area. I use the term sleep loosely. There can be a lot of barking involved as the various night creatures roam across the property. Could be a coyote. Could be a wild pig. They all get the same angry barking.
I’ll back up. Maeve has problems getting up and down from the bed. She’s had them for awhile. Our bed is kind of tall. She needs to be lifted up to get on the bed. Maeve signals she is ready to be lifted by pointing her nose at the bed accompanied by a gentle whimper. That’s your cue to lift her up. She used to be able to put her front paws on the bed as the signal, but age and the fact our current bed frame is taller make that signal no longer a viable option. Maeve can get off the bed, but there is a lot of staring and leg shaking before she summons the nerve to leap to the ground. I am very familiar with this ritual because I have been watching and participating in it for quite some time.
This all changed about a week ago. It seemed to coincided with the visit to Lynch Lair of DM, Mrs. DM and Yuki. Yuki had quite the frolic with Dani in the backyard while they visited. I’m sure there was a bit of territory marking on Yuki’s part. Since then Maeve doesn’t go into the backyard as frequently and not at night as per her usual routine. Yes, I’m totally blaming DM for this.
Instead, after the lights go out, Maeve comes to my side of the bed, puts her nose up against the side of my head and starts to whimper. Really loudly. Constantly. All night. What the serious fuck. I try to push her away. That works for about a minute. I pet her until she settles. That works for about ten minutes. Occasionally, putting her back on the bed works. She goes to sleep and then about an hour later wakes up. She realizes it is dark. She doesn’t like to be on the bed when it is dark. She jumps off. She comes to the head of the bed. She whimpers. I awake and look for a solution to make her stop.
One night I picked her up and physically put her outside in the yard. She stayed out there for five minutes. It gave me just enough time to get back in the bed under the covers. I heard her come through the dog door. I knew what was coming next. Sure enough. She came right to me to whimper.
If this was an episode of Lassie, Timmy would be long dead in the well because I have no idea of what Maeve tries to communicate to me other than she is upset. I actually feared there was something terribly wrong and I was going to be at fault for the calamity because I couldn’t speak ‘Maeve’. When the food bowl is empty and she is hungry, she brings the bowl to me. But I cannot determine the origin of this whimpering.
This cycle repeated for several nights. I was getting cranky from lack of sleep. Yes, there is an obvious solution and I finally took it. But I hated it. I have had dogs in the bedroom and on the bed at night for the last twenty years. It’s comforting. I’m used to it. But Maeve brought things to a new level this last week.
The night before last as soon as she whimpered, I locked her out of the bedroom. I felt terrible. She did not like being dragged from the room. But I did like sleeping. It was a slight win in my favor. The only problem was using the toilet in the bathroom in the master bath. It’s kind of noisy and close to the bed. I usually venture down the hall to use the guest bathroom during my nightly relief sessions. But I didn’t want to open the door and have Maeve sneak back in.
Last night, I did the same. At the first whimper, out Maeve went. The only difference was I locked Dani out as well. Dan doesn’t come to the bedroom as quickly as Maeve. She has a slow approach where she moves from the couch to down the hall to just outside the bedroom to the foot of the bed. Eventually, she’ll make her way onto the bed. She’s starting to need a lift up as well but most times she manages it fine.
Anyway, Dani was still doing the long meander when I kicked Maeve out. Maeve takes her banishment stoically. Not a peep from her. Dani, however is a scratcher. She knows we are on the other side of the door and wants our attention. Dani scratches at the door.
I finally get out of bed after the third or fourth scratch at the door. I didn’t recognize what the sound was that woke me. I let Dani in. Maeve enters with her. I put Maeve on the bed. She snuggles into a spot at the top of the bed between tQ and I on the pillows. Fine Let’s sleep.
Nope. Let’s not sleep. Maeve awakes. Maeve comes to me to whimper. tQ gets up and lays on the ground with her to see if that will appease our Irish War God. It’s what tQ would do when fireworks or lightning would make Maeve frantic. Maeve calms for awhile. But Maeve has issues. I kick her out of the room again.
Tonight, she goes out to the backyard on her own. Mainly because there were things to bark at. She must have a lot of barks stored up because she barks consistently. It’s full throated and seems to be right outside my window.
I’m hearing the barking as I awake from a good solid dream. Because of my interrupted sleep cycles, I’ve been remembering a lot of my dreams lately. Last night was another film construction dream. I have those a lot. It’s another big show. I’m walking through the sets on various sound stages. It segues to the premiere screening. I bump into one of the stars. She is very happy to see me. She talks to her friends about me. She wears this shimmering silvery top that looks like it’s made from those tiny reflectors you see on billboards. I’m touched she remembers me. She’s very famous, been a ton of movies that you have all seen. I awake as I’m carrying George Clooney around via piggyback.
The dream crumbles around me under the assault for Maeve’s barking. But the dream is right there. I want write it up on Doom because of the presence of….crap. Her name will not come to mind. And the frustration at the barking disrupting my sleep melds with frustration at not coming up with the name. You all know her. You all love her. She’s tall. She’s blond. She’s been in a lot of action movies as well as comedies. I want to scream at my brain and at my dog.
The name pops up as Cameron Diaz. But that’s not it. I know it’s not it. But Cameron Diaz lodges in the slot for the name and won’t move. I go down the list of movies that not-Cameron Diaz was in. Atomic Blonde, Monster, That Thing You Do. Every time I run the sentence “The woman who starred in fill-in-the-movie is ‘blank’ “ the name that pops in is Cameron Diaz. But it is not. I know it’s not. Goddammit, Maeve, would you shut up.
I start visualizing movie posters so I can read the credits of who is in the movie to know the actress. I can see her perfectly. I try to see the poster for Mad Max: Fury Road because that was a pretty powerful image of Cameron Diaz as Furiosa. No. Not Cameron Diaz. I try to think of her co-star in the picture and for several minutes, i can’t think of his name for awhile either. Eventually Tom Hardy comes out of the mist.
At this point, my brain is spinning with trying to think of the name. Maeve is now in the room. I can’t remember when I let her in. I look at the clock. It’s 4am. Despite the fact I planned to sleep in until 5am this morning, I opt to get up at the usual dogwalk time of 4am. Another new behavior for the dogs is the Greg-getting-up-freakout. They bark. They jump up and down.
A week ago, the dogs just followed me out quietly. Now, there has to be barking. I move quickly because tQ also planned to sleep in. I pull on my shorts, grab my socks, and escape with the mad crew.
Heading down the steps, dogs in tow, Charlize Theron reveals herself to me. I sigh with relief. Charlize Theron. One hamster wheel can stop spinning. Of course, the name Charlize Theron keeps reverberating through my head. It’s like the cell that found it and brought it forth is very proud of itself. The gray matter wants to keep showing me the name so I’m cognizant of what a good piece of brain matter it is.
The dogs are now fast asleep on their respective couches. Later today, I will push one of them aside and have a very long nap.
Maeve has lost her mind. She is kind of crazy and needy to begin with, but the last couple of months have been extra special. As we go to sleep at night, she starts on the bed. While we read, she sleeps. Ten seconds after I shut off the lights, she hops off the bed and heads for the outside to sleep in the garden area. I use the term sleep loosely. There can be a lot of barking involved as the various night creatures roam across the property. Could be a coyote. Could be a wild pig. They all get the same angry barking.
I’ll back up. Maeve has problems getting up and down from the bed. She’s had them for awhile. Our bed is kind of tall. She needs to be lifted up to get on the bed. Maeve signals she is ready to be lifted by pointing her nose at the bed accompanied by a gentle whimper. That’s your cue to lift her up. She used to be able to put her front paws on the bed as the signal, but age and the fact our current bed frame is taller make that signal no longer a viable option. Maeve can get off the bed, but there is a lot of staring and leg shaking before she summons the nerve to leap to the ground. I am very familiar with this ritual because I have been watching and participating in it for quite some time.
This all changed about a week ago. It seemed to coincided with the visit to Lynch Lair of DM, Mrs. DM and Yuki. Yuki had quite the frolic with Dani in the backyard while they visited. I’m sure there was a bit of territory marking on Yuki’s part. Since then Maeve doesn’t go into the backyard as frequently and not at night as per her usual routine. Yes, I’m totally blaming DM for this.
Instead, after the lights go out, Maeve comes to my side of the bed, puts her nose up against the side of my head and starts to whimper. Really loudly. Constantly. All night. What the serious fuck. I try to push her away. That works for about a minute. I pet her until she settles. That works for about ten minutes. Occasionally, putting her back on the bed works. She goes to sleep and then about an hour later wakes up. She realizes it is dark. She doesn’t like to be on the bed when it is dark. She jumps off. She comes to the head of the bed. She whimpers. I awake and look for a solution to make her stop.
One night I picked her up and physically put her outside in the yard. She stayed out there for five minutes. It gave me just enough time to get back in the bed under the covers. I heard her come through the dog door. I knew what was coming next. Sure enough. She came right to me to whimper.
If this was an episode of Lassie, Timmy would be long dead in the well because I have no idea of what Maeve tries to communicate to me other than she is upset. I actually feared there was something terribly wrong and I was going to be at fault for the calamity because I couldn’t speak ‘Maeve’. When the food bowl is empty and she is hungry, she brings the bowl to me. But I cannot determine the origin of this whimpering.
This cycle repeated for several nights. I was getting cranky from lack of sleep. Yes, there is an obvious solution and I finally took it. But I hated it. I have had dogs in the bedroom and on the bed at night for the last twenty years. It’s comforting. I’m used to it. But Maeve brought things to a new level this last week.
The night before last as soon as she whimpered, I locked her out of the bedroom. I felt terrible. She did not like being dragged from the room. But I did like sleeping. It was a slight win in my favor. The only problem was using the toilet in the bathroom in the master bath. It’s kind of noisy and close to the bed. I usually venture down the hall to use the guest bathroom during my nightly relief sessions. But I didn’t want to open the door and have Maeve sneak back in.
Last night, I did the same. At the first whimper, out Maeve went. The only difference was I locked Dani out as well. Dan doesn’t come to the bedroom as quickly as Maeve. She has a slow approach where she moves from the couch to down the hall to just outside the bedroom to the foot of the bed. Eventually, she’ll make her way onto the bed. She’s starting to need a lift up as well but most times she manages it fine.
Anyway, Dani was still doing the long meander when I kicked Maeve out. Maeve takes her banishment stoically. Not a peep from her. Dani, however is a scratcher. She knows we are on the other side of the door and wants our attention. Dani scratches at the door.
I finally get out of bed after the third or fourth scratch at the door. I didn’t recognize what the sound was that woke me. I let Dani in. Maeve enters with her. I put Maeve on the bed. She snuggles into a spot at the top of the bed between tQ and I on the pillows. Fine Let’s sleep.
Nope. Let’s not sleep. Maeve awakes. Maeve comes to me to whimper. tQ gets up and lays on the ground with her to see if that will appease our Irish War God. It’s what tQ would do when fireworks or lightning would make Maeve frantic. Maeve calms for awhile. But Maeve has issues. I kick her out of the room again.
Tonight, she goes out to the backyard on her own. Mainly because there were things to bark at. She must have a lot of barks stored up because she barks consistently. It’s full throated and seems to be right outside my window.
I’m hearing the barking as I awake from a good solid dream. Because of my interrupted sleep cycles, I’ve been remembering a lot of my dreams lately. Last night was another film construction dream. I have those a lot. It’s another big show. I’m walking through the sets on various sound stages. It segues to the premiere screening. I bump into one of the stars. She is very happy to see me. She talks to her friends about me. She wears this shimmering silvery top that looks like it’s made from those tiny reflectors you see on billboards. I’m touched she remembers me. She’s very famous, been a ton of movies that you have all seen. I awake as I’m carrying George Clooney around via piggyback.
The dream crumbles around me under the assault for Maeve’s barking. But the dream is right there. I want write it up on Doom because of the presence of….crap. Her name will not come to mind. And the frustration at the barking disrupting my sleep melds with frustration at not coming up with the name. You all know her. You all love her. She’s tall. She’s blond. She’s been in a lot of action movies as well as comedies. I want to scream at my brain and at my dog.
The name pops up as Cameron Diaz. But that’s not it. I know it’s not it. But Cameron Diaz lodges in the slot for the name and won’t move. I go down the list of movies that not-Cameron Diaz was in. Atomic Blonde, Monster, That Thing You Do. Every time I run the sentence “The woman who starred in fill-in-the-movie is ‘blank’ “ the name that pops in is Cameron Diaz. But it is not. I know it’s not. Goddammit, Maeve, would you shut up.
I start visualizing movie posters so I can read the credits of who is in the movie to know the actress. I can see her perfectly. I try to see the poster for Mad Max: Fury Road because that was a pretty powerful image of Cameron Diaz as Furiosa. No. Not Cameron Diaz. I try to think of her co-star in the picture and for several minutes, i can’t think of his name for awhile either. Eventually Tom Hardy comes out of the mist.
At this point, my brain is spinning with trying to think of the name. Maeve is now in the room. I can’t remember when I let her in. I look at the clock. It’s 4am. Despite the fact I planned to sleep in until 5am this morning, I opt to get up at the usual dogwalk time of 4am. Another new behavior for the dogs is the Greg-getting-up-freakout. They bark. They jump up and down.
A week ago, the dogs just followed me out quietly. Now, there has to be barking. I move quickly because tQ also planned to sleep in. I pull on my shorts, grab my socks, and escape with the mad crew.
Heading down the steps, dogs in tow, Charlize Theron reveals herself to me. I sigh with relief. Charlize Theron. One hamster wheel can stop spinning. Of course, the name Charlize Theron keeps reverberating through my head. It’s like the cell that found it and brought it forth is very proud of itself. The gray matter wants to keep showing me the name so I’m cognizant of what a good piece of brain matter it is.
The dogs are now fast asleep on their respective couches. Later today, I will push one of them aside and have a very long nap.
As a matter of fact, my anger does keep me warm