Chloë Goes Nocturnal

Schatzi (right) would rather let sleeping dogs lie.

After all the summer traveling, it felt good to stay home in the fall. We had lots of visitors, too: David and Linda from Syracuse, George and Debbie from Juneau, and Schatzi twice. I made sure everybody knew where my treats were, and when I wanted to be left alone. Funny, everybody got the messages except Schatzi. I had to put her in her place a couple of times. My house, my rules.

Meanwhile, all my medical appointments went off without a hitch. My heart murmur specialists in Tacoma gave me another positive report, meaning no meds or other other precautions, tleast for now. We then took our daily walk at Point Defiance Park, which has great views and big trees. Heather and Mike ate a late lunch at The Red Hot, a neighborhood restaurant specializing in hot dogs and sausages, but for some odd reason they made me wait in the car. 

Owen Beach, Point Defiance Park, Tacoma.

When I had my “senior checkup” with my personal physician, Dr. Aimee Kimmel, she told Heather I am the healthiest senior dog she sees. Best of all, my weight was down to a mere 20.75 pounds, earning me an immediate rations raise from Heather. Unfortunately, Dr. Kimmel didn’t agree with the opinions of some other of my admirers that I am too thin. That diagnosis might have increased my daily menu even more, but I’ll take what I can get.

Apparently not taken at 4 a.m.

While Dr. Kimmel adjusted the dosage on some of my daily meds, she could provide no good prescription for curing what has become the bane of my existence, the solitary blemish on my otherwise near-perfect behavior: Waking up and whining for attention between 4 and 6 a.m. every night. Since last spring (memories differ on the exact date), at that hour I am wide awake and ready for one thing: getting into bed with Heather and Mike. They are my pack. It’s where I belong. I am simply calling it to their attention.

Unfortunately, it’s not allowed. Why getting into their bed is not allowed between 4 and 6 a.m. when it is allowed–lo, even encouraged!–at other hours of the morning, afternoon and evening, I am not smart enough to understand. I can’t just check my Rolex, you know. 

The pack model their Tuscarora caps in Discovery Park’s north lookout.

Anyway, Heather (with Mike’s consent) tried many ways to cure me of this habit. She started by sternly commanding “Chloë, NO!” followed by “KNOCK IT OFF!” This cut off my whining immediately, but it only for 5 or 10 minutes at a time, and led to a subconscious dread that prevented Mike and Heather from falling back to sleep between my whines. Then they tried keeping me up later, and then left my crate door permanently open, so I could roam the bedroom and the whole first floor of the house if I wanted. They even tried moving my office bed to the floor at Heather’s bedside for a while so they could be closer together, but I never used it. So they moved it back to the office, and one night I even slept in it there. The next ploy was melatonin, a natural sleep aid, with a 3mg dose just before bedtime in a “chewable” tablet.  (Hardly; even alongside my usual bedtime treats, Mike has to force the tiny things down my throat.) After a couple of weeks, the melatonin may be making me fall asleep faster and sleep sounder at 10 p.m or midnight, but so far it has done nothing to change my sleep pattern at 4:30 or 5 a,m. Since Mike’s alarm doesn’t beep until 6, they are not pleased.

Daybed, night bed.

Given my newfound nocturnal freedom, most recently I am choosing to sleep in my living room bed, where I already spend most other hours of a typical day. Heather and Mike still sleep in their bedroom, but now there’s a wall between us and they keep the bedroom door tightly shut, so my nightly whine is less audible to them. This arrangement has worked better for them, but it’s far from perfect. I have already overheard Heather talking about earplugs, so that could be their next tactic. We shall see. Frankly, it’s a miracle they still love me!