The past 24 hours have been one for the books, I must say. Listen to THIS drama:
Nora, my puglet, wakes us up at 5 am, frantically scratching at the door. Matt is all angry because it’s too early. OK, NOW what do I do with this little creature who thinks it’s time to play? I’m so fuzzy right now that I can’t even remember what I did! 
Matt finally gets off to work at 8 and, a bit later, I notice little drips of blood on the floor. OH GREAT! Nora’s in heat! And she’s supposed to get spayed next week. Actually she was supposed to get spayed weeks ago but finances made me reschedule. I figured, she’s 7 mos. old and it would be ok. Hmmph! :hmm:
So, I quickly cover up all the chairs and couch in the family room (we’re renting right now til our home sells) because she jumps on them and sleeps on them. I figure I’m good. I call the vet and have to wait until July to get her spayed because they want to wait for a month because, otherwise, the surgery is longer with all the swelling. They tell me she’s gonna bleed for a week and then have another week of being VERY fertile. I call Matt at work and we laugh about making sure that no great danes come calling!
I spend the day obsessively following Nora around every time she jumps off the chair. Meanwhile, the 3 cats are looking for attention, I’m trying to watch DIY, knit, do laundry (Nora was all over my bed!), etc.
The day goes well. Go out to dinner, come home, watch Sci-fi Friday (my dh LOVES that stuff!), knit some more. xxx OK! 10:30. I’m tired. I go to bed and theeeeeeeeen, at midnight, Matt comes in to tell me that he thinks Zoe (my baby princess Siamese) got out. :oo: I figured, when I took Nora out earlier, the door didn’t close all the way (hate that door!). So, I get up, throw something on and go outside, half asleep, trying not to be frantic about losing my cat in a neighborhood where EVERY house looks alike and she’d NEVER find her way home. I walk around the yard, calling her while the other two cats and Nora are all making noise behind the screen. I turn around and, through the darkness slinks Zoe. Poor thing! Her tail’s all huge and she’s not even crying she’s so scared. :waah: I scoop her up and hug her like crazy, all the while thanking God that Matt noticed the door.
Back to bed. 2 am. Nora’s frantically scratching at the door AGAIN! UGH! Enough already! x-( I guess Matt got up and then, a few minutes later, scratching again. At this point, I’m NOT HAPPY and Matt says “Nora fell in the pool!” She was soaking wet and I dried her off! OH MY GOSH! :noway: I get up, throw something on, and go out to find my little puglet all excited, humping my leg (she’s been doing that A LOT lately) and wanting to play AT 2 O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING!!! :happydance: So, I try to bring her in bed with us (not caring about the sheets anymore – I just wanna sleeeeeeeeeep) and she wants to “talk.” I take her back into the family room, sit with her and then go to bed. Now I can’t get to sleep because I start “awfullizing” about what might have happened. What if we had a solar cover – she would have drown? What if all the animals had gotten out of the opened door? What if? What if? I got up and covered the opening to the pet door so nobody could get out to the pool. I decide that, from now on, the baby fence thing is going to go up each night. OK. Good. Now I can sleep.
ZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz……………….scratch, scratch, scratch. Guess what? It’s 5 am again. I love my Puglet but I’m just about ready to scream. :gah:
I’m so exhausted but very grateful that everyone was fine. Good Lord! I thought raising three daughters had enough drama! :passedout: