It’s now three nights in a row that Kathy and I have been awakened in the middle of the night by a barking dog – but last night was the night when Bobbi nearly became a coat. We both went to bed just after 9:00 – I think the last time I went to bed that early, I was still wearing my Fantastic Four pajamas – and settled in for what we expected would be a blessedly long night’s sleep. But at 11:35, we were awakened by the frantic barking of both of our dogs. (I had to go down.) 12:40, we are awakened again – primarily by Bobbi. (I go down again.) 1:35, we are awakened again – by Bobbi (I go down again. By now I am truly furious with nasty words going through my mind that a Grammy Award- winning rap artist might use.) And when Bobbi started barking again at 2:20, I was ready to sell her. Heck, I would have paid someone to take her away. It’s probably good that Kathy went down that time – and I’m not sure exactly what she said or did (for all I knew, she stuck ‘em both in the microwave) – but I don’t much care except that it worked. That was the last we heard from either of the dogs for the rest of the night. But now we face the conundrum of what to do about this – and I’m starting to feel at least an echo of the bewilderment that parents feel when they have an infant that screams in the middle of the night for no apparent reason – or a youngster who adamantly refuses to sleep in their own room – or any number of other issues that can terribly complicate what is supposed to be the bliss of overnight. I feel for them now on a whole different level.
I was already thinking a lot about the blessing of good sleep because my wife has had more than a few nights of poor sleep lately- even before this Night Of The Barking Dogs horror story began – which heightens my own appreciation for the relative ease with which I sleep. But during this week of Christmas Festival rehearsals, I have been thinking back to exactly ten years, when I had embarked on a brief sojourn as the conductor of the Carthage Choir in the wake of the retirement of Dr. John Windh. That was a HUGE undertaking for me, professionally, especially because I didn’t give up a single voice student – I just took on the carthage choir on top of everything else . . . which in retrospect was incredibly foolish on my part. Anyway, for all the fun and excitement and satisfaction, which was sprinkled into that experience, what I remember more than anything is the sleeplessness. . . all the nights when Kathy would roll over and find me laying there fully awake, my eyes wide open like saucers. . . and all because of the stresses and challenges of my new responsibilities. I came to realize, and very much the hard way, that life is not meant to be like that, at least not for me – and shedding what I ended up shedding was the best thing I could have done.
And if Bobbi doesn’t start sleeping through the night again, she may find herself “shed” by her sleep-deprived owners. But let’s hope that we figure something out – or she figures something out – before we have to post this sign in our yeard: For Sale: Adorable, Energetic Golden Retriever – Loves Middle-of-the-Night Play . . . Will Entertain Any Offer.