If there's one thing I can't stand—and I mean, this disdain emanates from the molecular and metaphysical fibers comprising the very core of my being—it's a disruptive dog. I now have two of them.
Today Cody woke us, and naturally Bonnie, just before sunrise with one of his many ways of expressing concern, in what can only be described as a single, piercing Dog Scream. Apparently he saw something distressing outside our bedroom window. What it could have been, I have no idea, because I'm pretty sure even the birds slept in today. I haven't had more than six uninterrupted hours of sleep in four days.
By 6:45 this morning I had Noah making coffee while I constructed a crude barricade of patio chairs at the top of our deck stairs. To keep the dogs from whining at the back door. Because I had thrown them out. Concomitantly I was formulating a plan for bedtime tonight, which includes throwing them out and constructing a crude barricade of patio chairs at the top of our deck stairs to keep the dogs from whining at the back door.
As we sipped our coffee in the blessedly quiet living room, we decided to put on a movie and relax on the couch until Ethan woke up. We briefly considered There Will Be Blood, obviously, but chose Little Miss Sunshine instead. Because a nervous breakdown typically yields less jail time than murder.