Bed Hog

When my husband gets up in the morning, he takes Rocky and Jacques out of the room and closes the door so that I can continue to sleep. (He’s thoughtful that way.) When he comes back in the room to get ready for work, I might be semi-conscious. Usually I’m still sound asleep. If I don’t hear the door open, I definitely feel the bed shake and hear a jingle of tags before I can rouse myself into a state of actual consciousness. At that moment, I am helpless and cannot defend myself against what is coming… I cannot defend myself from being poked in the eye (or ear) by Jacques’ cold, wet nose. The coldness and force of his nose pretty much startles me awake. And when my eyes pop open, I am literally eye to eye with a wide-eyed Westie who is staring at me much such intensity that it’s almost freaky. My “mmph” is greeted by a quick lick on the nose before he grunts and throws himself down on the bed  and goes to sleep (usually on or very near my head – I think he’s shooting for the husband’s pillow but has terrible aim).

The timing here is critical. If I don’t move sometime between the time Jacques pokes me in the eye and throws himself on the bed, I’ll be pinned in by this 20 pound dog who hogs more bed space than my 90 pound Shepherd ever did. Not only does he pin me in, but once he’s asleep, he’s dead to the world. Moving once he’s there is almost impossible. (Although I’m starting to think he’s “playing possum” while in the bed.) “Move to the other side” you might say. Well, I’m usually wrapped burrito-style in the blankets (in an effort to keep my husband from stealing them all in the middle of the night) so getting out of bed isn’t as easy as flinging the covers off me. I usually don’t get moved in time and wind up stuck, which isn’t terrible because I just go back to sleep for a while.

When I’m finally ready to get out of bed, I have to first unpin my arms so that I can start to work on the 20 pound pile of furry lead next to me. I poke and push and push and poke until he finally opens one eye and looks at me. “Jacques, off! Jacques, off!” I say over and over until he FINALLY decides to move. He’ll either move just enough so that I can shimmy out of my burrito blanket or he’ll move and start this ridiculously slow, calculated stretching “display” where he literally stretches everything starting with his head, moving to his front paws, then his body, followed by his back legs then tail and finished off with an exaggerated yawn. (I have to get video of this. It’s absolutely ridiculous.) Then, with an offer of food, this creature – who was, just moments before, so sleepy that he could barely open one eye – shoots off the bed like a bullet and starts running laps in the living room. And with that, the bed hog has transformed into a crazy train.

Yes, I know. I’ve done it to myself. (sigh)

SLUMBER PAR-TAY!!! (This is what happens when my husband is gone… Jacques invites some friends to come sleep in the bed.)

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Crazy Train

Jacques does everything with gusto – eating, barking, playing… and if it’s possible, even sleeping. So, it’s not a surprise when I come home (doesn’t matter if I’m gone 5 minutes or 5 hours) that he greets me with gusto. Actually, it has become more like some sort of mad frenzy.

When I pull my car into the garage, even before I’ve even turned the car off, I can hear Rocky and Jacques barking their “greetings.” (“Greetings” sounds much better than saying “they were barking like clueless lunatics,” which we all know is what is really happening, but I digress.) Jacques, in all his excitement, takes things a step further. He goes into a barking/howling/yodeling frenzy that is bewildering yet hilarious. Often times, I just stand in the garage and listen to him until he finally stops because it is that funny. As I open the door, I see a brief flash of white then hear nails scratching on the tile as Jacques peels out of the kitchen (usually taking out a water bowl and rug in the process) and runs towards the other side of the house to the office. There he watches and shakes with anticipation as Rocky and I go down to the end of the driveway to retrieve the mail.

When we return, I hear Jacques peeling out on the tile, but this time he’s headed straight towards me. He throws himself at me and tries to jockey for position between me and Rocky. As I move into the house with one giant black dog moving at a snail’s pace, standing right in front of me, I have a small white dog doing circles through and around my legs while jumping up and down. Start. Stop. Start. Stop. Step over dog. Step around dog. Give ridiculously slow dog push forward. Try not to strangle hopping dog that is about to trip me. Start. Stop. This continues through the utility room, into the kitchen and dining room, and on into the living room. (I’m shocked – and thankful – I haven’t fallen and/or seriously hurt a dog.) About that time, I mention going outside which elicits another chorus of barking and results in Jacques doing some Doggie NASCAR laps around the living room. He somehow ALWAYS manages to come around the corner of the couch or chair right when I do. He comes within nanometers of taking me out, but somehow always misses. He does laps around the living room as I shout, “Go to the door and SIT! SIT! SIT!” But there is no stopping that crazy train once it leaves the station… unless that crazy train miscalculates turning a corner and smashes right into a recliner – which is exactly what happened earlier this week.

In one of his many loops around the living room, Jacques miscalculated a turn and ran right into the corner of the recliner. I was a few steps behind him and heard a loud “THUNK!” then saw the recliner rocking. I looked at Jacques who, I swear, was shaking his head in a “what in the heck just happened??!” sort of way and just busted out laughing. At that point, his pride was a little wounded, but he calmly picked himself up, walked the few steps to the back door and sat and waited for me to let him out. He wouldn’t make eye contact with me.

“This stupid chair jumped out in front of me as I was fulfilling my need for speed. Stupid chair.”

I would love to say that he learned his lesson and takes corners a little slower, but no. No, no. That would make sense. And nothing about Jacques makes sense. But, I have learned that there really is a way to stop the crazy train once it’s left the station… And don’t think I won’t use that knowledge to my advantage (just maybe not with super large pieces of furniture).

I’m So Excited!

When Jacques gets excited about something, he REALLY gets excited about it. There is no “kind of excited,” no “sort of interested.” When he sees something outside, he goes all sorts of crazy – running in circles while somehow jumping up and down, barking frantically, and whining in this high pitched tone that I’m surprised I can even hear. This commotion is so intense and so believable, that even now when I hear it I think there must be a group of burglars about to raid our home. I’ll jump up from wherever I am ready to make my stand as my heart skips a few beats. And while I’m relieved each time that there is no horde of masked men outside my door, I’m extremely annoyed and often froth at the mouth when I see that all the commotion was over a cat, bird, or leaf on the other side of the fence. (And, yes, part of my annoyance is with myself because I fell for the “OH MY GOD THERE’S SOMEONE OUTSIDE YOU HAVE TO DO SOMETHING RIGHT NOW OR WE’LL ALL DIE” routine again. I fall for it over and over. *sigh*)

It’s probably best for all involved that I don’t have a video of that. Your eardrums can thank me later.

This video shows Jacques getting excited over a kong-thingy filled with peanut butter. (Thank you, Auntie A2. Those things are wonderful!) He gets so excited he can’t follow basic commands. He just starts throwing his paws, head, body, whatever he’s got at my husband because he wants that kong so badly. The video starts mid-action… and luckily he’s not screaming as much as usual, but he does have quite a bit to say about the whole thing. (Again, your eardrums can thank me later.)

Since I took that video, I’ve been walking around with the Pointer Sisters’ song ‘I’m So Excited’ in my head (hence the post title). It goes, “I’m so excited and I just can’t hide it. I’m about to lose control and I think I like it.” Since there’s no song that goes “I’m so excited and I just can’t function. I’m about to go insane if you don’t give me that treat” I thought I’d stick to the Pointer Sisters’ song.

Enjoy!