It is four in the morning and I wish I were sleeping!~ Or, Uriah is a broken alarm clock!

This has been an interesting, if not tiring past six weeks. I ended November by getting a cold, not an ordinary cold; this cold drained me, and hung on like a leech.

Uriah during this time, actually, right at this moment- four-o’clock in the morning-Uriah has taken to barking.  Every second, he barks! Like a clock ticking down.  Then, once and hour he decided to go all out and get angry at his bedding, which he has torn to shreds. I ask him over and over, “What is wrong with you?” He looks up, wags his tail and heads for his water bowl.

Now, Uriah is in a dog cage. He is untrustworthy to allow free rein to the house while I am sleeping. He loves to tear into the garbage, his favorite pastime, second to eating cat poop.

Uriah’s water bowl is outside his cage, it used to be in his cage with him. I had to remove it this past December, because the first thing he has taken to doing, once he is put in his cage for the night, is tipping that bowl over… on purpose…

No! He doesn’t have to pee!

I found that out by standing outside in the freezing, yet beautifully quiet darkness.  While Uriah sits at my feet, and looks around… I have to walk him out into the snow, and point to the ground.  Even then, all he will do is drop to the ground and roll in the snow.

He can hold his water longer than any dog, or person for that matter, that I have ever known, and I am counting my youngest daughter’s ability, or inability to hold it. I can ask, beg, and order her to hit the bathroom before we get in the car. I will stop three times on the road, and each time she will say she doesn’t have to go, at least not until we are five minutes from our destination and she needs to stop immediately.

Kids and dogs –gotta love ‘em…

It is well below freezing. Somewhere outside the coyotes are barking. Every night wandering and dawn roaming creature must be laughing at Uriah’s barking. Or, they are highly irritated by it.

I think, his age has caught up to him and he is going senile. Michael wanders past me, muttering his opinion, “He is just a bad dog who won’t listen.”

I roll my eyes as I hear paper rustling in the kitchen. I catch Michael rummaging around in ‘my’ hidden bag of cookies.

Uriah starts up his tick-tock barking. Michael, points past me with wide eyes, “He’s a bad dog, told you so!”

I frown.

“What!”  Not even trying to hide the handful of cookies, he mutters, “If I eat these cookies, I’m helping you lose weight.”

“Really! Really!” I growl back at him. “Just like Uriah helps me by eating the garbage, so I don’t have to drag it down the driveway on garbage day!” I raise my hand up silencing him before he can answer.

 I wonder if they sell husband cages…

 

My Sony camera is back in for repairs…

My novel is making an attempt at writing itself…

And I didn’t make any new resolutions this year, I decided to try and catch up with all the past ones first.

I hope everyone is doing well.

And, If you have any ideas on how to stop Uriah from barking, well, I’m listening.