So there it is, 5AM and I’m sound asleep, dreaming of goblins and ghoulies (loved that movie, by the way) and Cody, our old coy-dog (½ coyote) decides it’s the perfect time to let loose a mournful howl in his sleep . . . at the top of his lungs, I might add.
I nearly wet the bed.
Now I’m not actually 100% sure the old guy was asleep, because after I jumped out of bed and checked on him, he just laid there looking up at me, wagging his tail liked he’d just performed an amazing trick (when, let’s face it, folks, it was I who very nearly performed the trick).
I’ve been punked by a dog. Ashton Kutcher would be proud.