We all had a restless night last night. Thankfully it wasn't due to any more nocturnal wanderings of the wardrobe goblin, but when all the brouhaha had settled down, and as I was trying to get back to sleep, I was reminded of one of my favourite Thurber stories, which I read and loved as a child.... The Night The Bed Fell. If you are unfamiliar with James Thurber, I would strongly recommend that you read at least one of his short stories, and the New Yorker has obligingly posted the one in my link above.
Anyways... back to last night.
I was roused from a deep sleep by Small Dog jumping on the bed at around 4am. This is unusual for her as after her pre-bed strokings, she generally repairs to her comfy nest on the floor by the bed, occasionally making excursions around the house during the night, presumably to check for enemy incursions.
PP, sensing that something was amiss, reached out for her and found her to be soaked to the skin. For some reason, she was immediately convinced that SD was covered in blood, and shook me properly awake to ask what had happened.
"I don't know" I replied, groggily, fumbling in the dark for SD who was standing accusingly in the middle of the bed.
"What do you mean you don't know?"
"Errrmmm.....I was asleep... I don't know what happened"
By this time, PP had switched on the bedside light, to reveal one very wet, very unhappy Small Dog. She was indeed soaked to the skin.
My sleep-addled brain ran through a series of likely scenarios....
*We had been burgled and the felons had hot-footed it out the back door, leaving it wide open when SD had chased them outside, into the rain.
*PP's son had bravely decided to give SD a very late night bath.
* There was a hole in the roof and water was pouring in.
* She had somehow tipped over her big water bowl in the kitchen and had helpfully mopped up the resulting mess by rolling in it to act as a small, furry sponge.
Granted, some of those scenarios were less likely than others, but you try piecing together a wet dog mystery at 4 in the morning.
By this time, both of us were convinced that something was badly amiss, and PP raced round to Small Dog's basket, in which she discovered an empty glass, and the bedding similarly soaked.
It then became apparent that in my sleep, I had knocked my water glass off the bedside cabinet, drenching both SD and her bedding. Presumably she'd had a very rude awakening!
PP stripped the sodden duvet and blankie out of her basket and made her a dry nest.
All the while Small Dog stood in the middle of the bed, glaring at us with her best "how very dare you" stare.
PP dried her with a towel and peace was eventually restored, although SD displayed no inclination to return to her bed, curling up beside me, while I stroked her and attempted to soothe her ruffled feathers.
She did eventually stalk off to her bed, where she further expressed her displeasure by scrabbling around and digging it up for a full 10 minutes before settling down and finally falling asleep.
Sleep was slower to return to me, and this morning we had to be up early to run some errands so I was somewhat irked to emerge from the shower room to discover this on my recently vacated warm spot...
Her eyes were closed and she looked asleep, but the position of those ears spoke volumes...
SD: DO KNOTT EVIN DISTURB ME!!! Sumwun nokkt me ovr the hed then tryd to droun me in the middul of the nite so ai am KNOTT. GETTEN. UP!