3:20AM: Dog needs out. Refuses to come back in and stares into the backyard like Freddy Krueger is out there, or ya know, a raccoon.
4:30AM: Mabel the cat is banging on a cupboard door trying to get into it. Clearly Freddy Krueger is in there as well and she is protecting the house, or... it's a mouse.
4:40AM: Mable has moved onto eating important documents on my desk. Yes, she eats paper. We all have our vices. I hear the loud crunch and spit from my weird girl. I get up and hide them in the cupboard that I know she will also try to get into.
5:20AM: Franny has to go out AGAIN. Could be Freddy Krueger, or could be the river water she drank the other day. Either way, I don't want to risk it. Again, she refuses to come in. I bring out lunch meat and coax her into the house. It's raining, so now I'm wet and my slippers are muddy. Freddy Krueger still looms. All the raccoons in the neighborhood laugh at us.
5:30AM: Franny jumps into the bed completely wet and before I can stop her, places her entire body on my pillow, butt facing me. Did I mention she has horrible gas?
5:30AM - 6AM: Franny continues to fart in my face, my bed is soaked, the cats play "who can bite Mommy's feet the most." Finn gets right in my face (I turned away from the dog's butt) and says loudly MEOWWWWWW! Mabel, who is now clearly not full after eating my mortgage paperwork demands breakfast loudly in the kitchen.
7AM: I hear the hacking of a hairball (not one, but two) on my bedroom rug.
8AM:I get up, make coffee and now (of course) all the pets are curled up and sleeping. Can you blame them? They had a busy night.
10:30AM: Me, looking at cute cats on the internet who need homes, thinking, "Maybe just one more."
4:30AM: Mabel the cat is banging on a cupboard door trying to get into it. Clearly Freddy Krueger is in there as well and she is protecting the house, or... it's a mouse.
4:40AM: Mable has moved onto eating important documents on my desk. Yes, she eats paper. We all have our vices. I hear the loud crunch and spit from my weird girl. I get up and hide them in the cupboard that I know she will also try to get into.
5:20AM: Franny has to go out AGAIN. Could be Freddy Krueger, or could be the river water she drank the other day. Either way, I don't want to risk it. Again, she refuses to come in. I bring out lunch meat and coax her into the house. It's raining, so now I'm wet and my slippers are muddy. Freddy Krueger still looms. All the raccoons in the neighborhood laugh at us.
5:30AM: Franny jumps into the bed completely wet and before I can stop her, places her entire body on my pillow, butt facing me. Did I mention she has horrible gas?
5:30AM - 6AM: Franny continues to fart in my face, my bed is soaked, the cats play "who can bite Mommy's feet the most." Finn gets right in my face (I turned away from the dog's butt) and says loudly MEOWWWWWW! Mabel, who is now clearly not full after eating my mortgage paperwork demands breakfast loudly in the kitchen.
7AM: I hear the hacking of a hairball (not one, but two) on my bedroom rug.
8AM:I get up, make coffee and now (of course) all the pets are curled up and sleeping. Can you blame them? They had a busy night.
10:30AM: Me, looking at cute cats on the internet who need homes, thinking, "Maybe just one more."
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