This morning, around 6am, I bolted upright from a deep sleep, completely aware that something was wrong.  I kicked out an exploratory foot on my bed, expecting to find Abby.  I’ve grown accustomed to sleeping in downright hilarious contortions in order to accommodate her 72lb frame….perhaps the simple act of sleeping in a normal position was what woke me up with a startle.  Anyway, there was no dog to be found.  Not in the bed.  Not on the floor.  Not even raiding the cat’s food bowl.  I stumbled downstairs to find the sliding glass door to the backyard open.  Pushed open by a wet pink nose, no doubt.  There was no dog in sight.

I freaked out.  It was dark.  It was raining.  This dog has zero understanding of the road and cars, and who’s really awake and coherent enough to dodge a lab at 6am on their morning commute?  I ran back upstairs to grab my glasses and then reached for a coat.

Of course, in the time it took me to go upstairs and return, I see a flash of yellow and a sheepish looking, completely drenched dog running to the back door.  Argh!  What a brat.

This morning was perfect sleeping-in weather.  Cool, a soft gentle rain.  Did I get to enjoy that?  Nooooo.

Abby on the other hand, had no problem leaping up on the bed (did I mention she was drenched?!?) and curling up for a nice deep sleep.

(Abby during a more sanctioned adventure last summer on Lake Huron.)

Related posts:

1. Abby Labby