Being a female, I’ve been blessed with the ability to pee more often than males. I’ve always heard that pregnant women have to pee constantly, and I’m an exception to the rule. Except at night. This may have something to do with the urge I get to drink mass quantities of water as soon as the sun goes down, and that urge continues all night long. “So what?” you ask. “That’s normal.”
Well, I was thinking that it may have something to do with preparing me for the constant jack-in-the-boxing out of bed that I’ll be dealing with when the baby comes. I thought I was really clever for coming up with that idea all by myself; unfortunately I read the same theory in a pregnancy book a few days ago. So either I’m not as original as I thought I was, or I’m really smart: smart enough to write a book about pregnancy. The other author and I think the same, so doesn’t that makes sense? Eh, not so much.
But here is what I can’t explain: why my dog, who used to sleep for 10-11 hours per night, now wakes me up nearly every single hour throughout the night to go outside. Yes, she’s eight years old, and I’m sure her bladder isn’t as healthy as it used to be, but she started doing it the moment that little plus sign appeared. How is that possible? Is she like one of those cancer-sniffing dogs, except she’s a pregnancy sniffer? Is she trying to help me get used to the ups and downs that new parenthood will bring? The other interesting thing is that she ALWAYS comes to my side of the bed. She never bothers my husband with her urinary needs. Does she just hate me, or does she know that I’m the sucker that will get up and let her out?
Now let’s talk about yesterday. Justin went outside to water the plants and discovered the world’s fattest toad hanging out on our patio. Chloe, being the smart dog that she is, avoided the toad (they taste yucky to dogs; she somehow senses this). She’s a genius, I tell you.
A couple of hours later, I went outside to check on the toad and discovered that he had buried himself in the ground. Not being a toad expert, I thought this was amazing and called Justin out to see. He then informed me that toads do that. How did I not know that? Anyway, I did what I always do when I want to learn something new: I Googled toads. (I learned that a group of frogs is called an ‘army’ and a group of toads is called a ‘knot.’ Pretty fascinating stuff.) After reading up on them and their “burrowing” habits, I also decided to build a toad house. (Yes, I Googled how to make my own for only six dollars. I will post pics when I get around to building it.)
But back to the point. This really does tie together, I promise. I went to bed about 11 p.m. last night, immediately after letting Chloe outside to take care of business. The first wake-up call came at 11:57 p.m. Are you kidding? Less than an hour later? I went to the door to let her out, and discovered Mr. Toad sitting immediately outside the door. Now, Chloe is like most females; when she needs to pee, she needs to pee NOW. The last thing I wanted to deal with was my 92-pound dog smashing the fattest toad on the planet on my patio. So I did what any woman would do: I woke up my husband and asked what to do. Needless to say, he wasn’t happy. His response was to either let Chloe out and not worry about Mr. Toad, or to move the toad. Uh, no thanks.
I took Chloe out of our bedroom and around to the other patio door, which is in the living room. I flipped on the light, subsequently blinding my attempting-to-sleep husband, and tried to get the toad to move. He didn’t. And Justin let out a stream of obscenities that immediately made me turn off the light. Now what? Chloe is doing the pee-pee dance next to me, and I can’t let her out either patio door without getting toad guts everywhere. Aha! The garage! Yes, I took my dog all the way through the house, through the garage, and out the side door. It was a perfect plan. She did her business and ran back, and everyone was happy. Back to bed we went.
Until…1:04 a.m. Mr. Toad was still sitting pretty on the patio, but he had scooched over a tiny bit. This allowed me a bit of a shortcut by taking Chloe out the living room door this time. Mr. Toad sat and stared at me the entire time, which kind of gave me the creeps. I told Chloe that if she knew what was good for her, she wouldn’t wake me up anymore. And she didn’t…until 4:40 a.m. This time, Mr. Toad had gone off on an adventure somewhere. This time, I didn’t bother to wait for her to come back. I simply opened the door, let her out, and went back to bed.
Does anyone have any words of wisdom for me? Is Chloe really trying to help prepare me for what’s to come? Or do I need to get her bladder checked out? This lack of sleep is already starting to get to me, and I’m only dealing with a dog. And for all of you animal haters out there, NO, I’m NOT leaving her outside all night. I mean, Mr. Toad could attack her.