Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Whelp's Delight

Now what you hear is not a test; Landlord's new puppy is filling our airwaves with rhythm-less all-night-long crying.  Sunday night was almost tolerable.  The young German shepherd-black lab mix broke into lonely-night-in-a-cage dirge just twice, at midnight and 5:00 a.m. (followed by the bustle of mess mopping?  who knows...I was half-asleep).  But last night, the sorrowful pup yipped and whined all night long, like he was staging a concert for the dead.  I tried to wrap my head in pillows, tried to block out the excruciating sound, even wished for a Sugar Hill Gang earworm, and not because I was still thinking about B. Midler (an all-time low at EWM mentioning that song "did I ever tell you you're my..."  geez.  Hope you'll forgive me for that.), but because I would go for just about anything that would make it stop.    Not only am I going to really struggle to like the dog, I'm also struggling to think of this as a very suitable living arrangement for as long as the dog's yapping fills my ears when I should be sleeping (ironic that L'lord has two dogs now and we have a no pets clause in our lease).  Lest I go far enough to upset or offend anyone (en route to becoming the first blogger to be evicted for posting living-space critique), I'll stop here, relieved to know that puppy so exhausted himself in the nighttime hours that the quiet suggests he's finally resting soundlessly this morning.

Posted by Derek Mueller at August 23, 2005 8:30 AM to Slouching Toward