Let sleeping dogs. ...

Let it be known that I have stayed up all night partying in my youth. Let the world hear that I have studied from dusk until dawn and still failed my Russian exam. Let all humanity shake with humility as I comforted sick children through long, cold winter nights only to go to work until 1 a.m. that very day.

Oh, let the three readers of my blog (hi, mom!) sing my praises for the heroic deed two nights past. I slept with the dog so he wouldn't be scared during a thunderstorm.

Poor Milo. For the years we've had him, the 100-pound freakishly large chocolate Lab has never been spooked by thunder before, but late Tuesday night, the rumbling of thunder and crackling of heat lightning sent the massive canine lumbering upstairs and into the bed where my wife and I were preparing for sleep. Yes, sleep. I'm old, remember! Geez.

Milo takes up the entire bed when he sprawls out, so I told my wife I'd take him downstairs and stay with him.

In the TV room, I hopped on the couch and Milo followed, but the old couch is too small for his girth. He was still upset by the heavenly bowling, so I grabbed a Winnie The Pooh pillow and sprawled out on the floor. Milo cuddled up next to me and laid his panting, drooling face on my shoulder. He was content. I was damp.

Finally, he got up and stretched and wandered to a cool spot by the front door (remember, it's Africa hot outside. Tarzan couldn't sleep in that hot). Seeing my chance, I tried to tip-toe upstairs to bed, but Milo caught me and tried to follow me.

Sigh.

Back to the floor where I laid with the panting, drooling dog resting his head back on my shoulder. Ick.

The rumbles finally faded away and Milo again wandered back to the cool tile at the front door, but he had one Lab eye stuck on me. What else could I do?

I crawled back on the couch, me and Winnie The Pooh, and I stayed there until the kids got up for school.

Thought: It's a dog's life and the cats are angry.