The Dog-Gone Time



The time change always messes with me. I feel kind of off kilter for a few days, feeling like I am always late (or early) for something. I love going in to Daylight Savings Time. The increased hours of daylight after getting home, the knowledge that the length of time the sun is up is getting longer, all of this makes me feel like I am emerging from a cave. The last few winters here in the southern-middle-midwest region have been colder and harsher than usual. So the beginning of Daylight Savings Time signaled the beginning of a new awakening. To be able to get out, stretch your legs, come out of hibernation.

Going back in to Standard Time is kind of the opposite, I guess. The days are getting shorter, there’s a chill in the air, and the sun is slanting in a different direction. It is a time to start gathering in. To buckle down for the winter. I do love, however, that I am supposed to cheat and get another hour of sleep when we “fall back”. I went to bed on Saturday and moved my clock back. So, in my world, I got to live the 10:00 hour all over again. I lived it by going to sleep, ready to wake up at the new 7:30, which would have felt like old 8:30, right there was the great bonus! Sleeping in with two kids and two dogs until 8:30 is a great luxury! At least for one day I can cheat the system and sleep in! Awesome.

Alas, this was not meant to be. My little dog, Charlie, knew that it was 7:30, even though by definition it was really 6:30. But apparently Charlie forgot to set his watch because he jumped on the bed at the new 6:30, came up to be face to face with me and whined that it was time to get up and go outside. I tried to convince him that he forgot to reset his watch, but he was not listening. All he knew at that point was that it was indeed 7:30 and he really, desperately needed to go outside. This was evident by the fact that as soon as I opened the door his little legs raced to his favorite tree and he was there for quite a while before he was ready to come back in.

Boomer on the other hand, had other ideas. Boomer is somewhere between the puppy/teenager phase. I get Boomer up to go outside as well, thinking that we could all go back to sleep for another hour after they both get done with their “doggy business” as we call it. The chill in the air just excited him, though. He ran around the backyard barking his head off. I’m sure he was thinking that this was great! It was new morning! There is a crispness in the air! It’s a great day to be a dog! Okay, that was just a loose interpretation, I don’t really speak dog that well.

Charlie, being the older but I don’t know how much wiser, dog came back in, finally realized that the time had changed (or maybe he was just too lazy to stay up) went back to his blanket and fell back asleep. Boomer decided the whole world needed to be up to see this glorious day! He immediately jumps on the bed and flops all sixty pounds of him on to his now awake “dog dad” and then looks him in the eye as if to say, “It’s time for my morning petting.” The now awake dad tries to convince the very awake dog that he must have missed the memo that says it is a day to sleep in for an hour. The phrase in our house to get Boomer to go to bed is “time for sleep”. So dad now tries that to get the sixty pound dog off his chest. It went something like this:

Dad: Boomer time for sleep, go lay down.
Boomer: Looks outside where the sun is shining and looks back at him.
Dad: Boomer! Time for Sleep!
Boomer: Lifts his head, looks out the window, looks at his dad, looks out the window again and looks at dad. You can tell he is just saying, you’ve got to be kidding, the sun is up!

So after much pushing of the sixty pound dog, he finally goes to his spot and immediately goes back to sleep. I, on the other hand, am now fully awake at 6:30. Somehow I feel cheated. Oh well, at least it was a rather interesting start to just a regular Sunday.