Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Things that go BUMP, WHOOSH! and TWEEEE! in the Night.

I think we can all agree that certain moments in your life really require a good night's sleep. Or several good night's sleep.This would be one of those moments for Billy. Me too...but not nearly so much as for him. This is why since we arrived here in Carmel there have been a steady string of stupid things that have kept both of us from sleeping through the night.

Let me remind you that on our drive down here we lost our skylight cover on the window above the bed in the trailer. So no matter the weather we have a gaping hole to let noise in through the night right over our heads. A taped on garbage bag does not provide any sound insulation.

For our first few nights we had a gigantic motor coach wedged in to the campsite next to us. For anyone unfamiliar these are the things that look like Van Halen's tour bus from 1985. It's a hotel on wheels. Since it has all the utilities and trimmings of a Hilton it tends to make a lot of noise. The thing sounded like a hot air balloon trying to lift off every two minutes all through the night. Something... their heater? sounded like a jet engine was getting fired up and shut down by a power obsessed Rain Man addicted to flipping a switch... and the people were door slammers. Slam! Bang! Clunk... Bang! I found myself wondering what the Hell they could possibly need to go in and out that many times in a row for? Were they practicing an evacuation drill til they got it juuust right? Stop! The! Slamming!

Then I discovered that our neighbor across the way is holding Frankenstein captive in his trailer. How do I know this? Because there is a non stop noise issuing from inside that goes something like this.... "UUUuhhhhhhhhghhh. UH! RrrrrrgggggggggGRAWR! OOoooooooooWAH! UUUUUhnnn.UUUUUUUUHHHHHNNNNNNNNnnnnn!" This is all accompanied by a lot of banging and slamming also. Not the slamming of doors but the slamming of unknown items inside. When the single guy who lives there comes outside all falls silent. It's really bizarre. No more growling or grunting. There is some sort of transformation that takes place when he goes in or comes out. A Jekyll and Hyde kind of thing. It makes sitting outside trying to read or relax quite a difficult task mentally. I constantly feel as though I am passively sitting and listening to someone get torn limb from limb twenty feet away.

So we were really relieved when the Hilton pulled out yesterday and left. We thought Whew! Now we will be able to sleep tonight! Yeah! We went to bed around 11:30 and all was well until about 4:45 in the morning when Rudy "got scared." I woke up to the sound of him coughing and hacking so I got up and let him out of his little house under the table. He ran out and drank a bunch of water while I swaggered around in a stupor on the floor next to him. Then we had to have a 3 minute "thank you for saving my life! I almost DIED!" session where he wagged his tail uncontrollably and rubbed against my legs like a cat in heat. For you pet people out there who are flaking out that Rudy had to be let out of his house in the night for access to a drink of water I say this "Yeah, yeah I know." I have tried numerous ways of keeping water in the crate and he won't have it. He can't have it. He spills it every time no matter what. He has a weird water thing that keeps him from drinking any water other than that in his actual real live dish, out of my hand or of course the forbidden water out of THE OCEAN which he will gulp down with wild abandon like it is the Nectar of the Gods. Because if Rudy can do something to cause puking he will. Every time. Anyway... we have one of these night time coughing bouts once in a blue moon and I just get up and let him wet his whistle and he usually goes right back to bed after. Well, not last night. He was all amped up. He would not go back "in his hole" as we call it. He was crouching and slinking around, avoiding me when I tried to issue the command to go back to bed. So I went back to bed and left him to slither around out in the kitchen. Then he started crying. Ugh. I got back up, put on my shoes and sweatshirt and decided to take him outside for a minute to see if that would shake off whatever thing he was in the grips of. It was still dark out but the recently full moon was just barely peeking over the top of the mountain so I could see well enough. Rudy immediately freaked when he hit the pavement and started tracking something. He was whining and running with his nose to the ground in a frenzy of huffing. This I don't love because I know they have had mountain lions in this park... the last time we were here they found one casually laying on the front porch of the office one morning. I also saw one of the parks larger resident dogs with a huge stitched up gash (more than a foot long) on it's hind quarters the other day. I did not ask about it because I did not want to hear "We don't know what got him." come out of the owners mouth. I let Rudy peel off a good long morning pee and then drug him back in to the trailer against his will. He was tweaked on some smell out there and whether it was a just a squirrel, house cat or perhaps a rabid wolverine I did not want to find out.

I let Rudy up in our bed and laid my head back on my pillow just in time for the morning performances to start outside the bedroom window. Dudes. The birds. I love birds... really I do! But in the morning they really need to rethink their approach to the day. Why is it that one bird... just one little bird, always sits outside 5 feet away and does this... "Tweee! Tweee! Tweeeeeee! Twee! Tweee! Twweeeee! Twee. Tweeee. TWEEE! Twweeee!" for a solid hour. No change up in song. No variety. Just Tweee. Twee. Twee. It's like water torture. The monotony makes your brain shrivel up. Can't sleep with that going down. Nope. Not happenin'.

I finally did fall back to sleep when the tweeing moved down a few trees and was joined by dozens of other chirps and warbles so that it became a jumbled chorus instead of a needle poking my soul in it's ouchiest spot.

Hopefully tonight brings rest. 8 hours worth. If I have not jinxed us by talking about it that is. Billy's paint out officially starts tonight! We go at 5 pm to get his canvases stamped and then head straight for his first sunset painting locale he has picked out. I could tell you where it is but then as they say in the movies... I would have to kill you. I will keep you posted on how things are going. Send good vibes his way!

2 comments:

freskagirl said...

I don't think my Lucy dog ever gets up in the middle of the night to drink water. That would mean actually getting up and out of bed and walking into the kitchen. Not gonna happen.

I just started reading your blog (I love it!) and I already have a crush on adorable Rudy, but I might be biased because I live with Lucy, who is also a mystery terrier mix.

The birds: when I lived in Queens, my roommate had a bird outside his window that awoke him way too early every morning by mimicking a car alarm. No lie.

Bethany said...

Hi freska! Thanks for following the blog. People with spunky terrier mutts need to band together. It's a tough job... but somebody has to take care of these dirty little bugs.

The alarm clock bird would be reason to move. That would put me in the nut house.