Hiding from the Dog

Anne Mehrling

March 1

At 5:30 nothing was stirring as I reveled in the warmth of the bed. There were two more hours to sleep before the alarm went off! My eyes popped open wide, thinking that if Kacey heard me, she'd be prancing about, wanting to go outside. Niece Chrissie tried to break her of getting up early, a habit she started after David moved out. I used to stay up until 11:30 at night to take her out, not knowing when David would come home, anywhere from 1 to 6 am. I'm still going to bed late, while hoping to sleep in the morning.

I carefully pulled one foot from the duvet, then the other. I tiptoed to the bathroom, hoping the floor wouldn't creak. No dog in sight. The bed announced I was getting back in. Moving quicker than I thought was possible, I pulled the covers up to my chin and lay there holding my breath. Without hearing aids, I wouldn't hear the quiet footsteps. Hoping my eyes wouldn't squeak, I looked toward the door. Yes! The tip of Kacey's tail moved past the bed. Hold still! Don't move! If she suspects I'm awake, 45 pounds of dog will vault onto the bed and pounce on me! Slowly let your breath out and inhale silently. Ahh! Don't make any sound as you relax. For heaven's sake, don't snore! Zzzzzzzz

The alarm chimed. Yes! 7:30! The dog appeared almost instantly "Get up and let me out, please!" said Kacey. We found rain falling on bits of ice on the front steps. The temperature was slightly above freezing, so the steps were not slippery. My third day of living alone was off to a well-slept start.