My Nocturnal Life
Insomnia. We all suffer with it at one time, or another. I have rearranged furniture, cleaned the pantry, and as of last night, worked on landscaping projects. I have tried reading or playing Solitaire, but it seems physical activity gets me back to sleep faster, although not without some repercussions.
The night I rearranged furniture, I gave up half way through and went to bed. My husband thought we’d been robbed. Last night, my husband, and Cooper, thought we had a burglar stealing our landscaping brick.
I know. Three o’clock in the morning is an odd time to be rearranging the flower garden. However, there was a good reason. Well, for redoing the garden, maybe not for doing it the dark.
Six-month-old Cooper is still in the let’s-eat-the-whole-world mode. Our raised flowerbed is filled with decorative rock, sticks, pine cones, and poisonous plants. This cornucopia of indigestible snacks sings a siren song to him. We tried lining the decorative fence with chicken wire. It worked, for a while, until our extraordinarily smart pup realized he could push out sections of the wire and feast.
Last night, around three a.m., the perfect solution hit me like a taser. I tried rolling over and snuggling back in for some additional sleep, but no luck. I envisioned the step-by-step procedure until I finally gave up.
I slipped on sweats, grabbed a coat and a flashlight, and went outside. After several minutes of experimentation, I figured out the details. My plan was brilliant. Why hadn’t we thought of it before? By removing the top layer of decorative brick (all one-hundred-and-twenty of them), and tucking a portion of the chicken under them, we would have a stabilized retaining wall. Cooper couldn’t push the wire aside and nothing could slip through.
I managed to do about ten feet of wall before I heard noises behind me.
My husband, obviously hastily dressed, and Cooper stood beside the back door peering in my direction. Not being the bravest member of the investigation team, Cooper barked and ran for the door. My husband held a defensive stance.
I finally found my voice. “Hey, it’s me!”
Cooper turned around, stretched in my direction to get a better scent, and then hit me like the ton of bricks I had just moved.
My husband didn’t move, and although it was dark, but I could read his thoughts. Seconds later, he clarified any misunderstanding in that regard.
“What on earth are you doing out here in the middle of the night?”
“I figured out what to do about the flower bed.”
“Now? Can’t it wait until daylight?”
“I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d come out and try it.”
“Cooper won’t settle down.”
Which meant he woke my husband, desperate to get out of the kennel and confront the intruder in his yard. Okay, so he wanted my husband to confront the thief.
Now that he knew I was up, he would not go back to sleep.
“Fine. Leave him out here with me. You go back to bed.”
The connoisseur of bark and rock would not cooperate with my landscaping efforts. He was determined to undermine (pun intended) all my work, and he was shivering. The grass was wet from dew, well maybe it was frost. I gave up.
Not wanting to disturb my husband’s sleep further, I opted for a nap on the futon in my office, with Cooper. It was now five a.m., Cooper’s new time to get up since we turned the clocks back.
However, with a little persuasion, he joined me. We also discussed eating my pillow and nesting in my blanket, but with the assistance of a collar and a short lead, I convinced him to stay put and sleep. Moments later, he stood on my stomach, faced the door, and whined. I heard it too. My husband was making coffee.