Janie

4 am, Monday morning. The dark house hunkers down on the mountain beneath a cold drizzle. Inside, it still smells faintly like the mulled cider candle that had been extinguished five hours before by the person who now sleeps deeply in the cozy queen bed. She is so warm, in her oversized long-sleeved T-shirt and her fuzzy pajama pants, beneath the heavy blankets. Another hour of bliss awaits her before the cellphone charging on the floor will call her to the things of this world.

She probably is having a delightful dream.

A tremendous THUNK from the vicinity of her closet reverberates through the stillness. She twitches, but does not stir until a second cringe-inducing CRASH booms out, followed by a stream of whimpering half-barks and the scrabbling of little paws on linoleum. As she staggers to a sitting position, the barks escalate to full scale woofs, a shrill whine providing a backdrop for them like the drone of a bagpipe.

The erstwhile sleeper falls back onto the pillow with a groan expressive of all the weariness in the world, but the occupant of the back room has no sympathy.

That is how I found myself shivering out in the front yard at 4:05 am while raindrops dotted the air around me, cajoling little Janie to please please please find a spot and pee on it. Of course, once she had obliged me at last and we were back inside, I found that I could not endure her maladorous pelt. And that is how I found myself stooping over our bathtub and lathering Janie's fur to a fragrant shine, towelling her dry before jumping into the shower myself.

A pot of coffee worked its usual miracle on the atmosphere, and my spirits began to rise as I threw on my clothes and whipped my hair into a towel, rounding the corner to where Janie bounded over and did her prancing happy-dance around my bare feet.

And THAT is how I found myself snuggled onto the living room couch with a sweet-smelling, silky-furred, snoring puppy burrowed into my lap and a mug of coffee in the cup of my palm, my face a study in satisfaction.

Now I call that a happy ending.