194- All Tuckered Out

Today's blog text and idea is courtesy of Gordon. To give you a little background- you remember that we Meg & Erik and family were here this weekend. The kids absolutely love Harley! They played with him every waking moment and Harley LOVED EVERY MINUTE OF IT! He is happiest when his *babies* are here!

(this is an email he sent to Meg & Erik)...

Here's a tidbit in which I think you'll see the humor. I frequently stay up until the wee hours of the morning, and Harley falls asleep next to me on the couch, or on the back of the couch closest to my computer, if that's where I'm working. BUT, invariably he gets up the very second I move and follows me to bed. I've tried to sneak out without disturbing him, and have never been able to accomplish it. The only exception to this regimen is that sometimes, rarely, he'll give up on me and go join Joan, who goes to bed much earlier.

Last night, I got up from my computer and headed to bed, turning lights off as I went. I illuminated the kitchen just long enough to raid the fridge of a quick glass of milk, turned off that light and continued on. Upstairs, I turned on the hall light and stepped into the bedroom to undress. Hm-mm, no Harley. I scrutinized Joan's bed in the semi-darkness, but could not perceive him there. I ran my short-term memory back a minute or so to see if I could recollect hearing him go through the doggy door on our way up. I was pretty sure I hadn't. In the daytime, he loves to stare out the front window, so I checked the living room, just to be sure. No Harley. Checked the back yard clear to the gate on one side and the garage door on the other, even peering under the fruit trees. Still, no Harley. So, I decided to retrace my steps. I threw the light switch to the family room, lighting the place up like the 4th of July, and bounded down the stairs. There was Harley, lying across the back of the couch, out cold. As I approached, not a single feather on his ears or haunches so much as moved. I actually paused for a moment, just to assure myself that, in fact, he was still breathing. HE WAS! He awakened flat on his back, cradled in my arms. The look on his face clearly expressed, "....what the.....?" That poor baby was exhausted!

This morning he is still running at about 50% of speed and energy. I cupped his face in my hands, looked into his root-beer brown eyes, and told him to just take the day off.


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This is today's assignment for the JS.com class.