The Bunny and the Orange
We’ve been working on improving the Doodle’s sleep, which is an entirely different and much longer post, but so far it’s been working pretty well. Until yesterday when she was out of sorts both in waking and in sleep. I think she’s teething. But then again I’ve blamed the last four months of her erratic sleeping behaviours on the promise of new teeth shortly breaking through the gum line. We’re still at six teeth and holding.
When the baby is in the light stage of her sleep cycle, Mr. Mooster is such a big distraction. He’s on the bed, off the bed, dropping his ball, occasionally alerting us to some danger with a bark, all the while his collar jingles and jangles. If we close the bedroom door, he just sits in front of it and whines, which is far worse for the sleeping baby than all of the above.
Only in the last few days, Mr. Mooster has uncovered a new threat to our household. A bunny. It’s a lovely bunny indeed that’s moved into our hedges. I have no problem with this new creature building a home in our backyard. I figure that the bunny and the dog will work it out.
What I don’t appreciate is that the bunny taunts the dog.
Around 10:00 pm each evening the bunny has begun to plop herself in the middle of our front lawn right in front of the very large window that Mr. Mooster perches himself in to watch the world. While the bunny quietly sits there, Mr. Mooster is frantic and barking his doggie face off. This in turn unsettles the Doodle. We then have a crying baby to contend with, as well as one teenager who gets irked that all of the commotion is preventing him from getting to sleep. The other teenager stays up later than us all and couldn’t care less about any sound.
Last night I was desperately trying to keep the Doodle asleep to avoid ruining this new sleep routine when the bunny and the dog started up. Wifey sprinted down the stairs, I heard the front door open and close, and then it was quiet again. She returned to bed along with the dog.
Wifey crawled back into bed and looked at me, “I threw an orange at it.”
I didn’t say anything with words, just my face. A very quizzical expression is what I imagine I sported.
“I grabbed one of those clementines and lobbed it at the bunny. It’s snowing and cold out and I wanted to throw something out there that I wouldn’t have to retrieve. Wasn’t that smart?”
I remained silent for a second processing this turn of events. I looked at her and carefully spoke trying to remove as much incredulity as I possible could, “You hit the bunny with a clementine?”
“No! I didn’t hit the bunny,” she responded. “You know I can’t throw for beans and I have no aim. As soon as the orange released from my hand and it started whizzing through the air the bunny took off. It didn’t go anywhere remotely near the bunny. But I don’t have to go out and get it! Maybe the bunny will eat it, or the squirrels, but there’s no more bunny and no more barking dog. Pretty good, huh?”
I was happy that the situation was resolved. No more bunny, no more barking dog, and thankfully a still sleeping baby. All because my Wifey threw a clementine out the front door.