We left St. Charles for Panama City Beach, Florida around 4 p.m. on Friday and drove until 11 p.m. when we stopped for the night in Tupelo, Mississippi. This morning at 6 a.m. I swear I heard Dolly bark. The funny thing is, I was lying in my bed in a motel room in Tupelo, and Dolly was back in St. Charles. But it sure seemed like I’d heard it.

Most mornings sometimes between 5 and 6 am we will hear Dolly’s little “woof” from her crate on the floor. Millie, our big girl is usually in bed with us by this time. Although she is technically not allowed to sleep on the bed, very often after we’re asleep, she’ll jump (very softly) onto the bed and curl up at the foot of the bed. When she senses we are waking up, she’ll creep up between us and lay her head on the mostly likely shoulder who seems awake. Dolly will be sitting up in her crate and although the door isn’t latched, she generally won’t leave until she knows we’re awake. She’ll sit in her crate and “woof”. If a dog could whisper, that’s what she would be doing. Of course, if a couple whispered “woofs” don’t get our attention, she will get persistently louder with her “I gotta pee” bark.

The Great Hunter usually gets up between 4:30 and 5 am. I guess us old folks don’t need as much sleep, but he’s generally in bed at night around nine. So the mornings when he gets up before me and I’m either genuinely asleep or playing possum, he’ll take the girls (sometimes all four of them, two dogs and two cats) out of the bedroom and close the door as he leaves. Sometimes if I’m awake I will go back to sleep. When I do decide to get up, I open the bedroom door quietly, hoping I can get back into bed and under the covers before the herd of wild elephants thunders into the room.

Both girls jump up onto the bed. Millie just wants some morning loving, but Dolly, on the other hand, acts like a wild child. She always carries something around in her mouth and often it’s a large bone with jagged edges sticking out the sides of her mouth. So as I’m trying to avoid her tromping all over me and leaving bruises or a ruptured intestine, I’m also trying to not get stabbed by the bone sticking out of her mouth. When she’s been successful in getting right beside me, she will burrow down my side and end up fully stretched out, on her back so I can rub her stomach, which I do while holding her back leg so she doesn’t kick me in the face. This goes on for a few minutes until she’s had enough, rolls over, jumps out of bed, and on to her next adventure. Millie seems to sigh, like “thank goodness she’s gone” and lies down.