Dog House

Oh, I've visited that metaphorical domicile more than once; but that's not what this post is about.

My Sis, Cardgrrl, complains today that she has to get up early to catch a bus at 0900. I feel her pain, for I've been doing the same for the last three days. Annie commands it.

I'm not going to complain too much, as DW has covered the early morning shift for years now, arising to care for our four — yes, four — cats, and Annie's needs have been added to her duties. However, I cannot in good conscience have her do it all, for it is not just one more mouth to feed. Cats are easy compared to dogs. I might go into detail if I wasn't still on my first cup of coffee, yet suffice it to say I have a vague memory of being outside this morning before sunrise.

In anticipation of such a liklihood, I was in bed by 0100 last night, and have done the same for three nights running. At this moment I am thinking I might try for midnight tonight. My usual bedtime? Let's just say that I don't often see the sunrise before bed. It's been that way since we quit farming full time.

I've always been a night owl, except for when we farmed. I worked graveyard shift at a hospital while still in high school, and continued to do so in the Navy and through college. And when I wasn't working, I was partying until the wee hours; and when I quit partying, making art; and when I laid off of art for a while, playing poker.

It is good that I've cut back on my poker, for now I am walking the dog.