Dogsomnia

Yawn.
I should be almost ready for work this morning but I'm moving slowly. At 1:24 a.m. Donny decided he wanted outside. I invited him into bed. No. I patted his bed to demonstrate how comfy it is. No. I used my stern voice, "Donny! Go lay down!" No. Whine, cry, dog sounds that are almost words but not quite. Hound face peeking up over the side of the bed. Clicking toe nails of a pacing hound on a hardwood floor. At 1:30 I gave up and let him outside. I thought maybe someone neglected to give him his bed time potty break.
So I let him out and stand at the door expecting a quick taking care of business and back to bed with us. Well, apparently at 1:30 in the morning there are fabulous smells which are not there by the light of day. At the end of ten minutes I promise you I never saw him relieve himself despite trotting happily around our double lot with his nose to the ground. He did come to the door with a tennis ball in his mouth.
So he comes inside and hops happily into bed next to the Mr. falling asleep immediately with tennis ball in jaws. I can only assume he awoke and realized he'd left it outside. I don't know.
I do know that at 4:30 this morning I was still awake thinking about paint colors for my kitchen, meetings at work and that I should plant some mums this fall.
At least Donny is well-rested and the midnight tennis ball bandits were foiled again.
Yawn.