HARLEY: HEAD COLD AND HEAD GAMES

Head colds are so stupid.  They make you feel soooo sick, but then, it's "just a cold".  My latest cold virus hit me last night and kept me tossing and turning most of the night.  I often heard Harley, my little mixed terrier,  sighing from his bed in the corner; I guess I kept him awake.  Around 4:30am I got up, took some ibuprofen, emailed my boss that I was not coming in, and went back to bed listening to a CD-book.  I also remembered to turn off my cell phone and my alarm.

At 6:30am I awoke with a start when someone or something jumped on my bed.  Going to sleep with a Stephen King story being read can make your mind go funny places.  It took me just a few seconds to realize it was Harley and for my heart to retreat from my throat.  I closed my eyes again and tried to go back to sleep.  Harley wanted me to wake up and stuck his nose in my face.  He pawed at my exposed hand.  I put my hand back under the covers.  He barked.  I managed to croak a stern, "Quiet!" and he laid down on my bed and stared at me.  I didn't open my eyes to confirm he was staring at me; if he saw my eyes open he would take that for me being awake and would start the pawing and barking again.  I felt his gaze on my face, though, felt it like a hot nasty dog breath on my face even though he was at the foot of the bed.  'Way too much Stephen King.  I tossed and turned some more which made him finally jump off the bed, and I finally fell into a deep sleep.

When I woke later he was ready to go out and I took him out first thing.  He had been "good" and not had an accident (like anything he has done has EVER been an "accident"..) and I fed him his breakfast and gave him 2 OK release commands as a gift.  (He's still jerking me around with that OK release command.)  He laid next to my chair as I snuggled with a blanket and box of Puffs tissues.  Every time I got up - to move a trash can next to my chair for all those Puffs, or to get a glass of water, or to make a cup of tea - he got up and followed me.  He even looked concerned.  I was touched.

I made myself some homemade chicken noodle soup and set it on the dining room table.  Harley was sitting on the arm of the sofa looking back and forth from me to the window.  I felt a tug on my heart and decided to give him a treat; I also decided to take his halter off.  I called him over and removed the halter and hung it in the laundry room.  When I returned - talking out loud about getting him a treat - he was jumping off the dining room chair.

*FLB.

I don't know if he stuck his nasty conniving nose into my soup or not.  I ate it anyway.  And I did NOT give him a treat.

*FLB.

Don't worry.  He's fine.  I just told him to go to his bed in the living room.  I wanted to put my slippered foot up his butt....but....butt....but....I didn't.

=*freakin' little bastard