the dreaded summer cold
Day two of the summer cold started out early, as in just past midnight. I had taken a special concoction of cold medicine and vitamins before bed in hopes that I would be able to breathe in my sleep. The combination gave me heartburn so I asked my husband to pass me the Tums. (Note to self: do not ask someone to “pass” you a semi-large container of something in the dark.) I caught the Tums with my face as they went sailing across the bed. Apparently, my clumsiness is so potent that it spills over to those around me.
I drifted off to sleep with an ice pack on my bloody, swollen lip.
By six thirty, my malfunctioning internal clock went off and I was delighted that our puppy had slept through the night, even if I was slightly worried that he hadn’t stirred at his usual times. I couldn’t help but wake the puppy to be sure he was actually breathing. (This appears to be a leftover paranoia from having human babies in my youth.)
He was breathing, and as it turns out, I had forgotten to fully close the door to his crate before falling asleep the night before, so he happily took himself for his morning potty time without bothering to wake anyone. Of course, since he was unable to open the door to the outside, he went potty in the next best place…my bathroom. He has seen us do that a number of times, so surely this was an appropriate venue for his needs. And when he was done, he went right back to bed and back to sleep.
As much as I should have been upset with him, I found myself absurdly pleased that I got to sleep through the night for a change. Still, I won’t make that mistake again.
Parenting a puppy through his infancy is more challenging than what I remembered. He still has a propensity to put everything in his mouth, including enormous bugs that he finds on his last potty run before bed. I don’t have a problem fishing the odd thing or two from his mouth (poisonous mushrooms, bread twists, half a roll of toilet paper, even cat poop) but I draw the line at bugs. Specifically gigantic antenna wearing roach-type bugs. I cringed, and struggled to keep my stomach in place as the antennas hung out of his mouth as he crunched away on his treasure. He was so happy to get a snack before bed, and didn’t seem to care that I refrained from giving him a goodnight kissy before tucking him into his crate.
As much as I enjoy having a puppy, I must say I’m looking forward to him growing up into a dog. My other dogs have the good sense not to eat bugs or toilet paper. They do however like cat poop, which is why we have the cat door into the cat room. I will be glad when Indy is too big to fit through that door. But I do worry that he may get stuck as he grows; much like Winnie the Pooh got stuck in the honey tree. But that’s a blog for another day…
Until the next time…I’ll probably be drooling and snoring in my sleep from the summer cold!