January 8, 2017

White Dog went out to the living room. It was nearly 2am. As I sat listening from the bedroom, I heard WD talking to Trixie. "Sister, you are keeping me and probably everyone else awake with your silliness. Please stop, hop up on the couch, and go to sleep."

Trixie is feeling MUCH better now that her medications are balanced and the rash is totally cleared up. In fact, she feels so good that she is a obsessed with what is on the counters (nothing any more) and in the storage areas of the kitchen.

The past week she has managed to knock the dish drainer over sending dishes clattering in the wee hours; she has scratched as high as she can reach on the refrigerator door in an attempt to help herself to the jerky bag; she has knocked over the recycle bin. All this after lights out.

Before bed last night we decided to close the door to the kitchen. "There is plenty of water available for her," I said to Steve. "And there is no reason anyone HAS to be in there," he agreed. So all of the White Dog Army was unceremoniously shooed from the kitchen and the door was closed.

We had nite-nite treats and turned off the lights. I heard everyone settle into sleep mode...except my Big Beautiful Girl.

I could hear Trixie in the living room. She pushed at the closed door and whined. When that failed, she tried scratching her demand. She jumped up on the door.

The smart girl went out through the dog door. And then came back in. She did that often enough that I began to worry she had an upset stomach. After the seventh or eighth trip out (as I listened closely) I figured out that Trixie had cleverly remembered there was ANOTHER way into the kitchen...through the back door. She was going out the dog door and to the kitchen door from outside to find entry there!

Then she would return to the living room to scratch and push at the interior door.

White Dog impatiently stormed out to confront Trixie. Trix explained that she just needed to go into the kitchen...for "something." WD's tags jingled as she shook her head. Then I heard Trixie leap onto the couch and lie down.

"Thank you, Little White Dog of My Heart," I softly mumbled. And all was quiet.

1 comment:

Random Felines said...

huh - sounds like she is part cat....no closed door shall be tolerated :)