One Dog Night

Something Happened. Charlie's Not Talking.

Charlie had a bad night. I’m not sure what was going on, but he was beside himself, making this strange rhythmic huffing noise, then jumping off the bed and running to various windows, barking and whining frantically. I was too tired to follow him out to the living room to check on what the problem was. I figured if there was an intruder in the house, they’d eventually make their way down to our bedroom. I could just meet them then.

After a while, when no one showed up to rob or kill us, I assumed whatever was freaking Charlie out was outside. There have been skunks in the neighborhood, and when we were in North Carolina, in the woods, he got into it with a deer family. But then I started thinking, what if a dream, or anxious thoughts, were the source of his agitation?

I know an errant feral creature doesn’t rouse me from slumber. I toss and turn about stuff from fearing I've offended a friend to the apparent resurgence of the pandemic. But even though I doubted Charlie was mulling over climate change or that strange interaction he had with that Lab down the street, I couldn’t rule it out.

I guess I’ll never know. Something went on last night that made Charlie lose his shit, but this morning, he seems okay. A little bleary-eyed, just like the human he kept awake for several hours. I would love to know what the craziness was about, but communication being what it is, I settle on speculation, and the offer of a belly rub.