dog_sitting_days epitome of incomprehensibility These are the dog-sitting days of fall, for fun and modest profit. Last week, I was watching my parents' dog while the rest of the people were away in Arden visiting my aunt and her family. This weekend, I'm at a neighbour's house, and the dog to be watched has grown in size and heft, plus a cat has been added. "Neighbour" implies more closeness, doesn't it? These are people in Pointe Claire, a neighbouring town. They're the son and daughter-in-law - or is it son-in-law and daughter? - of someone from the Gilbert and Sullivan group. She is also going with them to see some friends in Ontario for Thanksgiving, and their usual dog-sitter is away, so she asked me if I'd be interested. I met the pets last Saturday. Lady V., the dog, is a bouncy black_and_white boxer. Her boxing? Stepping on your feet when she's excited, which is slightly painful but not injurious. Otherwise, she comports herself like the elderly gentlewoman she is, quiet and serene except for whining as I was leaving the house. This happened twice today. I got over here at 2:15 and took off for home later in the afternoon to bring some food and a warmer jacket (I'm biking back and forth, so it took two trips to transport what I needed). Then, early in the evening, I was off to G&S practice. The first time I left, I put the dog in her cage (the owners say to put her in there when I go out). She didn't object until she saw me getting ready to leave, at which she emitted the saddest of whimpers. Then, when I opened the door to the entry way, F. the feline followed. I wanted to close the entry way door as well as the main one, to leave the house how I found it, but I couldn't trap F. in the entry way, right? He rolled onto his belly for pats and I obliged, while V. whined louder as if saying, "How dare Kirsten lock me up only to play with the cat! Injustice!!" As if it was a game, I started rolling him towards the door, but he scurried back and clawed at the rug. Uh huh. I picked him up. He didn't scratch me. Yay, he trusted me! I deposited him on the top of the stairs and made my escape, promising amidst whines and reproachful glances to be back in less than an hour. He's a small, lithe cat, still a bit of a kitten: a little over 6 months old. Sleek black, with white hairs in his ears and where humans might have underarm and butt fuzz. Eyes like spring leaves, yellow in the centre and green towards the edges. (Central_heterochromia club! I'm hazel-green to blue.) Anyway, I should get V. into her bed upstairs. And myself into my guest bed. Gute Nacht, blather*innen. 251010 ... e_o_i (Central heterochromia didn't link. Plain heterochromia does. Also, the *innen thing is how you do plurals of people-words in German when you want to be shorter and more gender-inclusive, so instead of "blatheren und blatherinnen" you can write "blather*innen." But it should be capitalized and should I look up what "blather" is in German no I should go to sleep no time for punctuation goodnight.) 251010 ... e_o_i I was wrong about the cat's eyes: green near the middle and almost orange-yellow at the edges. Beautiful fall eyes - Thanksgiving, Halloween, the souls of crushed leaves reborn. Anyway. I have a cat-related story. ... The first night there I couldn't sleep. The dog was in the same room - she has a bed in the corner - and the sound of her breathing kept me awake. My belly's gurgles, the pillow's shape, the room's newness kept me awake. Also, it turned out the next day, a period being early. At least I didn't bleed on the sheets. But identifying causes didn't solve things. The next night, same problem. I tried thinking of stories, read news articles on my phone, decided that activity was bad for my eyes, put it away, took out my journal, poured out thoughts and feelings. Questioning: how DO people fall asleep? Why are hallucinations normal in dreams but bad in waking states? How do the parts of the mind that make up dreams distinguish between the two states? Something something brainwaves, yay for science, but why can't I SLEEP??? The Animal Adjective Alphabet game hadn't worked the night before, apathetic antelopes to Zoroastrian zebras notwithstanding, so I wrote out a list of songs I planned to play in my head. It skewed weirdly religious and maybe even more weirdly thankful, starting with the piano chords of a Thanksgiving chorus I'd arranged for my mother, another Thanksgiving hymn from childhood, and then to "Queen Esther," narrated by Scheherazade who's lived multiple lives in this world after spending a year as the mythical queen's lover, and when she meets her again, Esther is marrying someone else. Again. (I wrote a poem version for Fanfiction_Is_for_Teenage_Girls, but you need a song for that sort of thing. I am very slow at songs. I've got the tune and lyrics but not all the harmonies/accompaniment yet.) Anyway. Did the songs work? Not really. I'd fall into something like sleep for a second and then jolt awake, as if I was afraid. On the surface, I wasn't afraid, just very very frustrated. When I came back from a bathroom visit (why can I pee but not sleep?), I forgot to close the bedroom door. One of the people had told me to close the door or else the cat would get in and wake me up in the middle of the night with his hyper-ness. It was the middle of the night already. Around 3:15. The cat came in and sat on the bed, meowing. I figured I might as well pet him. He might be lonely, and his purring might be calming for me. Yes, his purring engine was working, and luckily he didn't demand attention for too long - he curled up and went to sleep. On top of my right arm, somehow. I thought about this. If I moved, he'd wake up, and then the dog might wake up again too. The lamp but not the overhead light was on, my covers were half on, and I was at a sort of diagonal but not uncomfortable angle. I flopped my head down on the pillow and closed my eyes, exhausted, to wait out the cat nap. People, I fell asleep! My brain did, and somehow not my arm! The first time I managed to nod off, I still woke up after a few seconds, but with the foggy thought: "Hey, I had the image of cats in a field, one with a garland of flowers on its head. That's not a thing I thought of consciously, right? YES! THAT WAS A DREAM! I WAS SLEEPING!!" But it was a very quiet celebration because the cat was still on my arm. I nodded off for longer bursts, running songs or thoughts of thanksgiving through my head when awake. Thank you, cat, thank you. Of course, F., being a creature of chaos, had to rouse at 6 AM, jump around a bit, chew my wristwatch, and knock a stack of kids' alphabet cards off the side table (incidentally, they were Animal Adjective Cards). But it was okay. He settled down and I slept again. ...I miss that cat. 251017 ... e_o_i I miss the dog too. She is a very companionable dog, not dogged like Shiloh but very doggish. Enthusiastic tail-wagging, etc. But I'm happy to be back with the stubborn, red-tawny-furred, food-mooching Shiloh. 251017 what's it to you? who go blather from