Runaway and Poop

I am sick with a nasty cold. It leaves me wondering if I will be getting sick more often than I did while living in FL. I was rarely sick when I lived there.

I have been sleeping in the third floor guest room, next to my parents' room. My bedroom is actually on the second floor, but since I don't love sleeping in the twin that's in there, I mosey up to the third floor to sleep. Oliver sleeps on the floor next to me.

I woke around 3. Wide awake, I lay there annoyed for a bit. I heard my dad from the room next door, "Come here, Oliver" in a friendly voice. Oliver lay on the floor next to me, unmoving. Soon, dad appeared in the hallway, all dishevelled with sleep, "Where's Oliver?" he asked.

I had turned on the light on my nightstand by now, "He's right here, Dad" he looked down at Oliver, still on his bed with his head hanging off. "There were two dogs out here" Dad claimed, confused.

Then it was clear that what I had suspected was in fact the case; dad had been dreaming or something. He shuffles off to the bathroom and I hear, just as he reaches the door, "There's poop in the doorway!"

That's weird, I think, I didn't hear Oliver get up and pooping in doorways isn't really his forte. Plus, I had just used the bathroom and saw nothing.

Dad leaves the bathroom, passing through the doorway again, "Never mind. There's no poop here"

My Dad dreamt of poop.

This morning, I had my own poopy experience. Letting the dogs out, Oliver took off like a shot into the backyard. Bootise took off after him and her leash snapped where it had been frayed by her chewing on it. She took off like a shot; across the yard, then into the neighbor's yard, behind the barn then back again, into the other neighbor's yard and back around the house. She would check to see where I was and take off as I got closer. The little brat! I was screaming uselessly at the top of my lungs before giving up and just heading into the house with Oliver. It was then that she went to the side door and waited patiently to be let back in. I let her back in but not before telling her what a naughty punk she was and giving her a little whack on the haunches before putting her in her crate.

Reporting back to Mom this morning, she tried not to laugh while I ranted about the outdoor event's effect on my nerves. We also talked about dad's little moment in the middle of the night. "Well, when he came back to bed," Mom said, "he told me there wasn't any poop in the doorway but he did see two dogs dancing in the hallway."