Tag Archives: Insomnia

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Pets In The Night

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Photo by Dan Cutler on Unsplash

 

It was a long winter night and the cold had settled in over the oldest district of a small Southern California town established in the heyday of citrus farming.  We tucked ourselves in under blankets and quilts with just our noses peaking out for the occasional breath of fresh frigid air. The chill clung to the old lathe and plaster walls and permeated to the core of the old structures.  Sporadically, throughout the night, gas furnaces would kick on and blast heated air throughout the rooms. The heat would rise and dissipate crushed by the long hours of darkness and chilliness. 

As usual, I was up after just a few hours of sleep.  Noises would wake me. Stirrings of a kitten and a dog. As I made my way down the hallway, I saw the kitten sitting in the hall in the dark. Alert, poised in the doorway looking out into the dark dining room. Seeing feline visions of an Egyptian netherworld or whatever it was that kittens saw that we could not see. A landscape of furnishings for running, jumping and hiding under, a parkour for cats. 

The kitten and dog loved to play night games. I heard them almost everynight running through the house. Joyfully chasing one another from room to room.  The dogs heavy paws thudding across the old fir floors.  Sound effects that made patterns that indicated jumps and gallops.  Circling through the two largest rooms in the tiny old house, brushing through a beaded curtain creating a woody clicking similar to chats being counted.  

The dog is always happy.  Pleased by almost everything. Gentle, a big soft ball of  brown furry velveteen. Each day and through the dark night, she remains gentle and sweet.  Only on guard when she hears something foreign or unknown. If a stranger comes near the door.  I lay back and let those thoughts wash over me.  Thinking of the sweet dog is relaxing and my nerves let go of any constriction and I’m submerged in memories of hugs, warmth, loving people and pets.  Simple things that happen everyday that make me happy and I find myself smiling in the dark.  

I think of getting a puppy.  Bringing even more Love into our home.  I imagine how the three of them; an old sweet dog, a teenage cat and baby dog would play and take care of each other.  

I felt the kitten jump onto my bed and drop something lightly onto my chest. It was too dark to see, so I reach down and felt a small soft ball of felt that we use to play catch during daylight hours.  I didn’t want to wake up and start playing catch, because then I would be really awake and miss out on long hours of luxurious nothing that awaited me for the rest of the night.  

It goes on like this, night after night. Sometimes I have to shut the door, so I don’t hear them and they can’t come in, or I would never get even a few hours of sleep.  Let them play in the night. With the dreams and the spirits that drift through the old house. 

Photo by Ignacio R on Unsplash

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Pug McSnore

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I walked in the door and the little old pug was snoring on the carpet in the entryway. It was a very exposed place to be sleeping and seemed a bit odd. She was a loyal little girl and probably fell asleep waiting for me. Her snoring was somnolent and every time I listened for more than a minute, I became hypnotized and started to doze myself. She was in a deep sleep and I called her name. She didn’t stir. I bent over and said her name more loudly and still she didn’t move an eyelash. I nudged her and she snored on. Then she stopped breathing. I pushed her and her body moved like a soaked sock full of sand. The thought rushed to my mind that she maybe she had passed, but hadn’t she been breathing just a moment ago when I walked in the door? Suddenly her legs stretched and she inhaled a deep noisy breath and got to her feet. She looked at me and wagged her tail. I proposed to her, “C’mon, let’s get something to eat.” She was off like a rocket and shooting to the kitchen.

mcsnoreThat’s a pug.  They love food.  They love fun.  They most definitely must have descended from the Sybarites.  My sweet little pug even has my scheduled memorized so she knows when it’s the best time to head into the kitchen.   She knows the routine and as soon as she hears my footsteps she’s there to greet me with her huge soulful eyes and dog smile. She spins with joy and snorts to the heavens that it’s time to eat!  She’s expectant and watches my every move. Anticipating a small morsel of something, anything.  She believes in equal opportunity. No food is discriminated against.  She gets chubby quick, so I hold back.  It’s so fun to feed her, but when she gets too round, she can barely waddle.

Ms. Pug McSnore likes to cuddle too. She makes a warm companion,  with a thick coat that feels like velvet. Her little body is warm and comforting and she makes a great winter cozy.  She’s the antidote to insomnia.  Take her to bed and you will quickly find that her deep breathing would seduce any insomniac into the  shadowy land of Nod.  If only physicians could prescribe pug snores rather than sedatives.




Taking a pug out in public like having a living  social network follow you everywhere you go.  Constant exclamations of “Oh, she’s so cute!”, ” I love pugs!”, “She’s so funny!”, ” Can I take her picture for my girlfriend?” follow you as you move through the store, the groomer’s, the dog park and even the parking lot. People are happy when they see a pug and by the end of my errands, I’m smiling unconsciously and I’m happy too.   The world is happy because of this one little Ms. Pug McSnore.

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Mockingbird Miss You

Photo by jurien huggins on Unsplash

There was time that I was lying awake at night for several hours in the middle of the night. It was a real bonafide case of  insomnia, caused by many things, but once I understood the physiology of it, it didn’t bother me too much. I always feel calmer when I understand a process and why it’s happening. I committed myself to rolling with it and figuring it out. It was new foray into human psyche and physiology; a couple of my favorite subjects. I figured that if I got really tired anyway, I would eventually pass out from the fatigue and my body would sleep. So I decided to make the best of it. Sometimes I’d get up and clean. For some reason it really made me feel clear as if I had cleaned my own inner psyche. Most of the time this would result in a fall into the restful crevice that I craved. I would drop off, my obsessions worked away with a dust rag and mop.

Another favorite was listening to complete albums. When I was young, before the internet, this was a fun way to spend the afternoon. Once the internet arrived and civilization moved into high speed living, I seemed not to have those hours anymore. Hours to just lay back and passively receive the magic of taking in a musician’s journey. Lying awake for hours in the night was the perfect setting for intense musical appreciation. I could float along on a timeless wave of notes drifting over my staring eyes and weighing down my eyelids until they were too heavy and closed with sleep.

The one thing that I enjoyed the most about this time, was a bird that took up residence in a tree near my window. My new guest was a mockingbird and he literally sang the night away. He would start his song at about midnight and carry on till about 4 am.  At first I didn’t realize it was one bird. Mockingbirds imitate other birds and don’t repeat a song during the course of their concert. It was amazing to listen to the endless variety of birdsong. His voice was loud and strong; so strong that he kept my neighbors awake too. The mockingbird made being awake in the middle of the night fun. It was wonderful just to lay back and listen to the endless birdsong and contemplate the mysteries of the world. As the spring progressed, his skills became more adept. His song became louder and more precise as he matured. He seemed to be somewhat of an opera star, loud and proud. I pictured him with a puffed up breast, his beak raised to the sky as his song rose into the night air reaching for the stars. He was really demanding, but seemed to deserve the attention he worked so hard for. He was consistent. He showed up on time. He was talented. I felt lucky.

Photo by Linh Pham on Unsplash

It went on like this for at least a month. My neighbors wearily complained that they were losing sleep and they didn’t love this bird like I did. I got it. I know not everyone appreciates gifts; even when it comes for free and has been there all along. I knew that most people when awakened in the middle of the night were disturbed and not delighted; unless it was a lover. Then suddenly, one night, the air lay silent. The night had been  abandoned by birdsong. The music that had provided entertainment through the wakeful early morning hours when most of the world slept and dreamed was no more. I was disappointed and a little disoriented. I really wished that he would come back. My ears seemed to ring with the silence that had once been filled with music and entertainment. Now I would have to move on and let the insomnia roll once more and take it’s course.

The next year another young mockingbird appeared, but his song was not as confident and his range seemed decreased. He sounded smaller and he progressed with time, but not to the heights of his predecessor. The  year following that, there was no return at all. Pretty soon I forgot about the bird. I forgot I had insomnia and life fell into a normal routine again. But sometimes, out of the blue, just like the night he appeared in my tree, the memory of him returns and those wakeful hours we spent together.  Him, joyfully entertaining the neighborhood and me, enjoying a concert when I needed it the most.