February 6, 2009

It’s just a tidal wave, honey. Go back to sleep.

Posted in Everyday at 7:25 am by ListenMaudy

We got Loth when he was just a puppy. He was a tiny ball of fluff who couldn’t even climb up a step. We were concerned that he might never get big enough to jump up and down from the couch. (He also isn’t a great jumper. He’s got short, stubby legs, but it just adds to his charm.)

Because he couldn’t get up and down from the couch or from our bed, which is about three feet high, we would let him drink from our water glasses. Muffin also thought that this was hilarious and adorable, so he actively encouraged this behavior.

This means that for the past four years, Loth has been drinking our water. Now it means that every night when we go to bed, Loth gets a biscuit (for his tummy), and then he gets thirsty. I’m the only one who brings water to bed, so he drinks out of my glass. I am also the lighter sleeper, so when he gets thirsty in the middle of the night, it’s me he wakes up.

It’s been warm in our bedroom off and on over the past week or two, depending on how hot it gets during the day. (I love living in LA!) Loth also needs to be groomed, so his hair is pretty long. This adds up to a hot little poodle in the middle of the night. When he’s thirsty he paws at me to wake me up. Then he will start groaning, which, while being quite hilarious, is  also quite annoying. If that doesn’t work, he climbs on top of me and does the poodle equivalent of jumping up and down.

The other night, he got thirsty in the middle of the night. I usually sleep on my side and roll over onto my back to give him water. This time, I was sleeping on my stomach, so I reached over and grabbed the glass and held it out near my shoulder, over toward where Muffin was sleeping.  Loth drank his water while I fell back asleep.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up to the feeling of cold water on the back of my hand. My hand had tipped, and the three-quarters-full glass had poured out directly toward the sleeping Muffin. The water rushed across the bed, soaking into the sheets, blankets, pillows and onto my poor Muffin.

We both awoke with a start, but Muffin doesn’t really ever fully wake up in the middle of the night.
“What’s going on?” he calmly asked.
“I spilled water on you,” I replied.
“But what’s going on?”

I ran and got a towel. The water had puddled between us and had run down Muffin, finally pooling somewhere near his knees. I offered to switch sides with him, but he said he was alright.

We lined the bed with towels and maneuvered ourselves around the lake that now took up half the bed. Luckily, it was only 1am, so we had plenty of time to get some more sleep. Muffin took it really well and actually finds it hilarious. We’ve both been getting some good use out of that story this week.

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