Saturday, December 26, 2020

Belladonna update



Belladonna's program starts in January.

She is sucking up every hour of work she can. Time will be at a premium after she starts the program. The last three mornings she has been out-the-door at 5:30 AM and back after six.

I miss the old girl. So I wake up at 5:00 AM to see her off.

Unfortunately, she decided that she can count on me to prevent her from over-sleeping. She hits the snooze, knowing that I will roust her out of bed fifteen minutes before she must leave.

She pretends to not hear me when I unlock her bedroom door. (OK, it is complicated. Her bedroom door is an exterior-grade, steel, fire-door with a Schlage dead-bolt lock. Entering her room is not done casually)

She pretends to not hear the German Shepherds' toenails clickity-clack on her hardwood floor.

She pretends to not notice the slice of Velveeta Cheese that I slick down on her  exposed arm.

Then, she pretends to not notice the hounds-of-heck jumping on her bed to deprive her of her cheesy bracelet.

I leave the room. I trust the dogs to do what she would cut my head off had I dared to wake her.

Division-of-labor is a wonderful thing.

Isn't it rich, are we a pair
Me here at last on the ground, and you in mid-air
Send in the hounds

Sleeping is bliss, you don't approve
One who keeps tearing around, and one who can't move
But where are the hounds, send in the hounds

Just when I stopped hitting snooze
Finally finding the dream that I wanted, was yours
Making my entrance again with my usual flair
Sure of my lines, nobody's there

Don't you love a farts, my fault I fear
I thought that you'd want what I want, sorry my dear
But where are the hounds, send in the hounds
Don't bother, they're here

Isn't it rich, isn't it queer
Losing my alarm-clock this late in my career
But where are the hounds, send in the hounds
Well maybe next year

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