... and this is the third time I've had to walk down the stairs since 10:30 last night. I've come to the conclusion that no matter how much exercise Savannah gets during any particular day, her mission in this puppy life of hers is to serve and protect.
The first time Savannah barked, I came quietly downstairs and turned on the porch light and looked out to see if a visiting raccoon was out on the porch. I didn't see a thing, and by the time I had turned off the porch light, Savannah was back in her bed. The second time she exploded with barking, my husband went down the stairs because he was still awake and at his computer. I walked down the stairs just out of habit, and not even wide-awake enough to realize that he was on his way down to the kitchen. Gary got the flash-light and went out onto the porch and the back deck while Savannah watched his progress through the screen door.
When he came back into the house, my husband quietly told Savannah that nothing was out there, and she needed to go to sleep, and then he got down on the floor and gave her some big reassuring hugs. Gary went back upstairs and then I put my coat on and took Savannah out by the grass because I had noticed her water dish was empty. As soon as I got outside, I saw an armadillo that was slowly making its way down the driveway and out towards the road. Savannah saw the armadillo too and stood there wagging her tail and then looking at me as if to say "See?! I told you that something was out here!" Then she peed in the grass, we came back inside, and I went upstairs thinking that that would be it for the rest of the night. Silly me.
At 3:30, Savannah exploded with barking again. Rather than come down the stairs for another look-see out on the porch, I just called down to her from the upstairs hallway... telling her to go back to sleep. I was determined not to get mad at her, not to yell, and just accept the fact that for the next ten years or so this night-time protective barking will be par for the puppy course. (To anyone out there thinking of getting a Great Pyrenees pure-breed or mix, consider yourself forewarned. This breed is nocturnal to the max.)
Savannah stopped barking for about three minutes, then started again. And then again. By that time, I was somewhat wide awake and decided to just call it a night and get out of bed and start the day. I sat down at my laptop in the breakfast room and before my computer had a chance to ask for my password, Savannah's front paws were in my lap and she was giving me that incredibly serious look of hers that says I need to go out and I need to go out now. On went my coat and shoes, on went her leash, and she peed in the grass as soon as we got out there. Fine. I don't mind taking her out at night as long as she's serious about doing something.
By that time I was really awake, so I turned on the lamp in the breakfast room and saw brown stuffing from Savannah's bed all over her corner of the room. Give me a blessed break. I had sewn up all the holes this puppy made last week, and then decided to cover her big pillow bed with an old sheet that had little palm trees all over it. After a few days of looking at those palm trees, I decided that Savannah's bed looked like what it was--- a big pillow covered with an old sheet. So I took a red and white checked tablecloth and used that to cover up the palm trees and everything else underneath. Savannah's bed looked like a fluffy table-top in an Italian restaurant, but at least the red and white checks looked better than the beach-y palm trees.
So sometime during the night when Savannah decided she needed to make another hole in her bed and remove more of the stuffing, she managed to get her nose underneath the red/white tablecloth, and underneath the palm-tree sheet.... and she tore open one of the sewn-up holes and pulled out the brown fiberfill. There was a puddle of that stuffing in the center of her bed and also on the floor surrounding her bed. Which was probably why she was sleeping by the back door and hearing every blasted little sound from the armadillo outside.
I picked up all the fiberfill, folded both the sheet and the checked tablecloth back underneath her pillow bed (which is becoming flatter and flatter every time she pulls out more stuffing) and right now as I type, Savannah is in her bed, sound asleep and snoring. I should go back to bed but I know that I wouldn't be able to fall asleep anymore.
I've been reading a book called "A Dog's Purpose" by W. Bruce Cameron. I have heard a lot about this book, and I've read one other book by the same author. This book has given me some insight as to how a dog thinks, proving to me that Savannah doesn't think it's wrong to be barking in the middle of the night. It's her job to bark at night-time noises, it's her job to protect her property and her people, and it doesn't matter if a spaceship lands in the backyard or an armadillo is hunting for grubs.... this dog is going to alert her people that all is not right in her puppy world.
And that's the way it is. And that's the way it will be for the rest of Savannah's life (and mine) unless she gets hard-of-hearing in her older years. (Or unless I get hard-of-hearing in my older years.)
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