Girl’s Night Out

As fetching as she is goofy, Gandy basks in our local sunshine

No, not that. The girl is not dating.

But she did have a fantastic frolic in the creek yesterday with her good (and much bigger) buddy Jesse, who is at least three times her size, but not 3x her speed. I only wish I’d had a camera. Next time, I promise.

The OUT was at bed time. Lately, she’s gotten balky about jumping down off the loveseat to get in her crate when it’s time for bed–something she used to do very readily and happily. But the past week, I’ve had to pull her front legs OFF the cushy furniture and onto the floor for her to amble across the room to her bed like she was walking up the gallows steps.

Night before last, she upped the ante. I pulled her off the loveseat, and we played chase between the front room and the dining room, round and round she stayed just out of reach. She was NOT going to bed–even though she’d been sleeping soundly for the better part of an hour.

I finally caught her and inserted her unceremoniously in her wire crate, which she has, until now, seen as a welcomed safe haven at night.

And last night, Herself comfortably in place in the usual corner of the loveseat:”Gandy, let’s get in bed” I told her, and lo and behold, she promptly jumped down to the floor.

But instead of heading for her bed, she very purposefully struck a regal reclining pose on the carpet pad in front of the wood stove, crossed one paw over the other, and looked at me with the obvious attitude of “I intend to sleep here tonight, and every night from now on.”

And there I found her this morning, not a peep all night, and nothing chewed up or otherwise buggered with.

Of course, one night of fortunate, random good behavior does not say what future nights might bring. We did restrict her from our room with a closed door on one end and an expandable barrier gate on the other.

Maybe someday, she’ll sleep beside our bed like Tsuga always did. But then, she snores, like Tsuga always did. And the crate, placed in a distant corner of the house, may be called back into duty. We’ll see.

Published by fred

Fred First holds masters degrees in Vertebrate Zoology and physical therapy, and has been a biology teacher and physical therapist by profession. He moved to southwest Virginia in 1975 and to Floyd County in 1997. He maintains a daily photo-blog, broadcasts essays on the Roanoke NPR station, and contributes regular columns for the Floyd Press and Roanoke's Star Sentinel. His two non-fiction books, Slow Road Home and his recent What We Hold in Our Hands, celebrate the riches that we possess in our families and communities, our natural bounty, social capital and Appalachian cultures old and new. He has served on the Jacksonville Center Board of Directors and is newly active in the Sustain Floyd organization. He lives in northeastern Floyd County on the headwaters of the Roanoke River.

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3 Comments

  1. I hope not, Carrie. There’s no room there. And the stove, of course, is not ON.

    I think she’s exerting both her independence and making a statement about the fact that she is now a big girl–as in–she needs more room to stretch out than even the 36 x 28 x 28″ crate gives her.

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