It's A Dog's Life

Last night, as I prepared dinner, one of the songs that was playing in my head exited my mouth..."Nobody knows the trouble I've seen, nobody knows my sorrow…" Well, I was belting it out with all my heart as I stirred the jambalaya, and the kids came running into the kitchen, "What’s wrong, are you okay?" Guess I shouldn't have given up those voice lessons.

 

I now know where the saying, “It’s a dog’s life,” came from. The entire side of my body that I was sleeping on last night fell asleep—that woke the rest of me up. No neurons were firing though; thinking wasn’t an option. I just needed to roll over somehow. Seems this hair dropping, snoring, drooling critter I call my dog, who has lately insisted sleeping only on my bed, was not willing to cede any of the covers as I made my attempt. A mass of flopping numbed limbs on one side of my body, the firing of any brain cells impossible, I struggled to flip myself over with my remaining working limbs, and vainly grabbed at the covers so they could join me on the other side. They weren’t budging, and neither was Daisy, cozily draped atop the covers, snoring on undisturbed. I was left with either continuing to sleep on the side of me that was now jelly or rolling over and freezing to death. I chose freezing. She was, of course, sleeping when I went to work, but tonight after she has dinner, we’re gonna talk.

 

Already another “Irony I Like” entry: Paris Hilton being sought by Indian director to star in an Indian production of a Mother Teresa biopic. Oh yeah, that’ll be good.

 

After thirty, a body has a mind of its own.
~ Bette Midler

 Published on: Apr 6, 2006