Under The Lamp Post – Chapter 2

It’s getting late. Michael needs to sleep and Diana can’t sleep at all.

“Come on, Sasha.  Let’s go sleep in The Girl Room.”

We quietly slip from the bed and creep across the shadowy carpeting. Diana slowly opens the door. I always get excited when we get up during the night. I’m ever hopeful that we are going on a surprise walk or doing something super top secret and almost always completely forget my sit/stay practice and throw myself at the door.

“Shhh…Sasha…off…no scratching…no jumping.”

Diana whispers quietly and picks me up into her arms. With one hand she closes the door and drops me softly into the darkened hall.  I run all the way down the long hallway and push open the door to the guest room. With one leap I make it all the way from the door into the middle of the bed.

I’m part Miniature Pinscher, you know. The other part of me is Chihuahua. Min Pins have long, thin legs and are really good jumpers. I can jump right into Diana’s arms without a running start. It’s another one of the almost 100% true facts about me. Ask me to show you one day. I’d be happy to demonstrate.

With one flying leap, I land in the middle of the wrought iron framed day bed, then slide down to the foot and stretch out. Actually, it’s not really my bed. It’s my bed by default. My so called “dog bed” lays abandoned on the floor, next to the bed, neglected from lack of use. I sleep where my people sleep. It’s one of the rules.

The guest room faces the street. All the noises and smells I love from the big bedroom are stronger in the guest room. The big bedroom is on the backside of the house and the guest room on the front side. Every smell flows through the guest room on its way to somewhere else.

Diana and I call the guest room “The Girl Room.” We rarely have guests so we mostly use it for very important girl stuff. We are always busy in The Girl Room doing our very important stuff like using the computer to write this story to you and hanging out doing crafting stuff with yarn. Michael has to ask for permission to enter. We always say yes, but we make him ask because The Girl Room is kind of like our club house.

No need to feel sorry for Michael.  He has his own club house room to do his very important boy stuff including playing the piano and tons of work paper.  We call his room “The Office.” That sounds fair, right?

Diana slides into bed and I curl around behind her knees. Five years living in my perfect, forever home has taught me that sleep is still a long way off because Diana is terrible at sleeping. She is constantly flipping and flopping. So it’s not a surprise when she turns on the light and grabs a book off the floor, settling in for a few hours of page turning.

I sigh and rabbit kick my back paws into the middle of her back. Hopefully she will get the point and will soon follow my lead into sleep. She has no clue just how much this flip flop stuff bugs me.

Finally, Diana finishes reading and throws her book on the floor. She reaches up behind her head to the nightstand overflowing with jewelry and more books, and clicks off the lamp we hand (and paw) painted with tiny pink and silver flowers – and a few Sasha prints.

“Good night, Sasha. Sorry I kept you up. Hopefully I can sleep now.”

I don’t understand this not sleeping stuff as a concept or as a reality. Sleeping is not that hard. You lie down and go to sleep. I sleep all the time. Sleeping is one of my best skills.

I didn’t get to be the grand champion napper that I am today, with such amazing good looks I might add, on just a few short hours of flip flop sleep. No, even though I make it look easy, it takes practice to achieve this restful perfection. I put the time in and it shows. Sleep helps me be me.

A few millimeters from deep sleep, I sense the shadows magnify as the lamp post grows bored and turns itself off. Growing closer with each delicate tread of her paw pads, Duchess begins her day with a leisurely saunter down the sidewalk on the first of her many Cherry Wood Lane safety checks. Stopping at the pink flowering cherry tree right under my window, she stretches up and begins sharpening her nails on the tree’s bark.

Sometimes cats can be so irritating. She must know I’m trying to sleep up here. Not every pal is nocturnal, you know.

“…Yeoowwwwlll…Arghlllawww…Rwaaaarrrrahh…aaaaaghhh…”

Based on what you just learned about Sasha’s special talent and when she likes to go to sleep, the Pals would like you to:

1. Share what special things you can do. Sasha can jump really well. We want to learn what you can do that makes you happy and special;
2. Think about and tell us what you think nocturnal means. Why is Duchess just waking up and Sasha is getting ready to sleep when it’s dark outside?

Leave us your thoughts and answers to these two questions in the comment section below. We promise to read every single comment and will even answer some.

Paw & Wing & Tread Hugs