well, you're in the wrong place.

Last night I had a quick catch-up chat with Chia Lynn. Her mother’s dog had just passed away, and I wanted to see how Miss Chia was holding up. (The post she wrote is lovely – you are a fool if you do not read it.)

I think our chat, coupled with the fact that I have been sans-canine for almost two years, prompted me to have a dream where my dog came back to me.

In a method similar to creating Frankenstein’s monster, my dog was resurrected from the dead and was brought home. And I was so happy at that moment, I thought I was going to burst.

There were even moments in my dream when I thought I woke up and thought it was a dream. No one could possibly be that happy. Everything was so real, from hearing him snort outside of my bedroom to nuzzling him right between the eyes and getting those little hairs stuck up my nose.

*sigh*

The best part was trying to figure out whose ashes were in the urn on my dresser if my dog was right in front of my face.

So naturally, I am a little bit bummed out today, because my stinky bear wasn’t around when I really and truly woke up.

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It’s the first day of November, which means the first day of NaBloPoMo and the day that Daylight Savings comes to an end.

Daylight Savings is a tough adjustment to make. It’s especially frustrating when you’re a dog and therefore have no concept of time.

My Murphy will always be missed, but it’s during the DS changes when I miss him the most. Somehow he got it into his head that dinner time came whenever the sun went down (despite the fact that we always fed him at 6:30 PM). So right about now he would be pacing back and forth from the kitchen to the den, wondering why we weren’t preparing his food. Nothing is funnier/sadder than seeing your dog lick an empty dish because he’s hoping something will magically appear.

When DS started, he wouldn’t eat until about 8-ish because it would be dim enough for him to get hungry. His bathroom schedule would then be thrown off, and I’d have to stay up a couple of hours longer to make sure he didn’t leave “presents” on the carpet.

I’ve mentioned this before, but my dog was not the sharpest tack in the box. The video below kind of supports my point:

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