I was woken last night by George barking. I peered at the clock. 5 o'clock. He must desperately need to go out. I stumbled out of bed and pulled on my dressing-gown. It was upside-down; I tried again. Hurrying to get downstairs I walked into the wardrobe.
But I eventually made it downstairs in more or less one piece and opened the kitchen door carefully, expecting George to be standing behind it ready to run out.
George was curled up in his usual place, and looking at me, bleary-eyed and blinking at the light. 'What?' he said.
'You want to go out?'
'It's the middle of the night! Why would I want to go out?'
When I got back to bed Husband asked why I'd got up. I told him I'd heard George barking. 'Didn't you hear him?' (Husband has much keener hearing than I do.)
'No.'
Is this what guilt does to you?
3 comments:
Yep! I can't tell you the number of times I've walked into furniture on "Simi missions" at night.
It's because furniture comes alive and moves around at night, welshcakes.
I've had dreams like that which seem so real I think they really happened.
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