This weekend was Maisey's first time change.
I don't count last spring, because she was only 4 months old and was still waking me up every two hours to pee anyway. And you can't count the fall, because you're gaining an hour and it doesn't make you feel like one of the incompetent zombies in "Shawn of the Dead" -- stumbling around and generally not doing a very good job of eating people.
So, since those two don't count, last night was PAINFUL. We have a very set schedule, which has already been interrupted once this month by me starting a full-time job. Last night just added another layer of interruption and confusion into the mix
We started out with some beefing about why she was in her crate so early in the night. I let her keep chewies in there, because I like to sleep in on Saturday mornings and they'll keep her occupied when she wakes up at the crack of dawn. So, the early-to-her bedtime wasn't too bad until she decided it would be fun to cram the chewies out the bars of her crate and then dig-dig-dig-dig to try and get them out. Which necessitates me getting up and rescuing the damn things so she'll stop. By the time we settled down and I got to sleep, it was close to midnight, with a six a.m. wakeup call.
I believe I'd been asleep about an hour when the whining started. I couldn't tell whether this was I-need-to-pee whining or I'm-tired-of-being-in-this-crate whining, but either way, I wasn't awake enough to do anything other than tell her it was too early to get up. This went on for an hour.
Then around three, she started throwing up the piece of aluminum foil that she found on the street and shoved down her throat before I could get it away from her. After throwing up five times, I felt both sorry for her and unwilling to let her sleep the rest of the night in filth. So I let her out of her crate and tried to get her up on the bed with me.
First she had some important toilet paper scattering to do, followed by some shenanigans with a sock, which made me think the whole night had been a ploy to get out of her crate and play. But she finally hopped up next to me, waited until I was almost asleep to try and steal my glasses from my nightstand, and then finally fell asleep around four. She was so tired when we got up that she put herself right back to bed after we came in from outside. Meanwhile, I'm mainlining diet coke and counting the seconds until the end of the day.
From what I have read, daylight savings time is very hard on the parents of toddlers, and apparently my dog is very much like a toddler. My sympathy to parents out there.
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