grounddog day

The early signs of autumn are slowly appearing. The changing leaves of a random tree. The sound of crickets at night. The cooler nights that allow us to leave our bedroom window open while we sleep.

Baxter's summer sleep routine is usually one of migration once he is invited to our bed. He trundles south, under the covers, and curls in the crook of dad's legs. We all fall asleep to the hum of the air conditioning unit outside. As the night progresses and I suppose the air for him becomes stifling down there, our little keibasa slowly migrates northward to seek cooler grounds, wedging himself between us so that we are the buns to his hot dog body. Often, though, one of us is briefly awakened by little paws pushing into our backs, as if to be told we are taking up entirely too much room and that we ought to share better. This little hot dog has tired of his human buns after all. By morning's arrival, Baxter's migration journey ends the same way it has all summer long - with one little dog finding himself at the center of a very large bed, having created himself a tiny summer oasis with just enough space all around him to allow for proper cooling.

Yesterday night's late summer slumber was a little different, however. With the cool air drifting in and nothing but the crickets serenading us to sleep, Baxter slept like a rock, buried under the quilts until it was time to be taken downstairs for his morning duties. There's all this fuss about groundhogs coming out of their burrow to predict the end of winter, but I say the real fuss should be about the end of summer. Yesterday night, this grounddog made his burrow and plans to sleep there til it's ninety degrees again.