Danger, Will Robinson: Dog Story Ahead

Here's what I have to look forward to in approximately four and a half hours:

At 4:30 AM, my beagle, C., will wander into the bedroom from his night on the living room couch (or armchair, depending on his mood) and stand looking quizzically and helplessly at the bed, where my terrier mutt, P. (see long-promised picture above), and I will be sleeping -- only now P. will be all roused by C.'s entry onto the premises.

But wait -- we have strict rules around here: No breakfast before 5 AM! No, sir. So I'll get out of bed, scoop C. up, plop him on the bed, and shut the bedroom door. Then P. will be truly excited and will start licking my face and walking on top of me.

"P., lie down!" I'll say firmly. "Lie down!" She'll lie down for five to ten minutes, then will start all over again. I'll start my part all over again once or twice more over the next ten to fifteen minutes. Finally, I'll realize that I'm not getting any sleep anyway and the notion of "discipline" will be exposed as the sham it is as P.'s paws track across my neck, my cheek, my groin one time too many.

So the three of us will go into the kitchen ("Sit, C.! Stay! Down!"), I'll give them breakfast, and then I'll let them out back to tinkle.

Here's the drill from this point on: I'll go get the newspaper if it's come this early (lately it hasn't) and then sit at the table reading it or a magazine. (Take it from me, the New Republic's frightening cover story on Virginia senator and possible Republican presidential candidate George Allen is enough to keep anyone's eyes open at 5 AM.)

P. will return from the backyard first and sit beside me, her wagging tail demanding that I scratch her mohawk as I read. Then, in his own sweet time, C. will wander in.

But I can't move yet! I have to let C. toddle past me and into the bedroom by himself. He won't hop onto the bed if anyone's looking, and he'll growl if I try to lift him onto it (unlike at 4:30 AM, when he's happy to be helped into the bed, as if he doesn't know how do it on his own).

When I hear him hop up, it's safe to put my reading aside, shut the back door, turn out the lights, and settle back for two more hours of sleep -- the most blissful of the too-short night -- in the family bed.