Friday. An off day. A day to sleep past 3:15 a.m. A day to wake up to the sunshine verses dark. A day to lay under the covers just a few more minutes. A day to wake up when I want to. But someone had a different plan for me.
There I was in the midst of a good dream when everything went sour (or should I say stink?) This was something I couldn't even blame on Barney. Maybe I should have taken into consideration that just because I don't have an alarm clock today, that maybe someone else does. I shan't take the blame for this. Right now the culprit is outside looking a little bit sheepish. It appears that Sadie's is pretty regular.
I can't stand the smell of anything cooking while I'm sleeping. Never could. I'm not the person on the commercial that is awaken by the smell of something brewing and wakes with a smile. I'm the person that smells something and hides her face under the pillow. My stomach immediately churns. Well it churned and did a few flips this morning. Out of my deep and relaxing sleep came the words "Shit, I smell poop". It woke Barney also who's first words were " What the hell is wrong with her". I don't recall the cold nose nudging my arm or the little whimper which if not answered turns into a loud bark. This would have prompted me to get up and let her out or suffer the outcome. There was no warning. Just the smell. Hell she even knew it was bad. As soon as I hit the "spot" she was standing at the door ready to hit the road. Barney got up, looked at the area, went and did his own morning ritual and hit the sack again. I, cleaned it up, disposed of it, de-smelled the area and am now wide awake at 6:40 a.m. when I should still be sleeping. She's out laying on the deck in the sun looking all kinds of smug.