Grunting means, “I AM TRYING TO TELL YOU…”

Grunting means, “I AM TRYING TO TELL YOU…”

I am paying for what I’ve always found to be dumb/ridiculously stupid; I have been awake for over an hour…because our DOG, Mr. Whiskey, refused to lie down and go to sleep after I put both pups in bed–the babies (main) [orthopedic] puppy bed that their Grammy (my Mom) purchased for them stays indoors, and in the corner of our dining area/kitchen. This is where they sleep at night.

While in our bedroom on the opposite side of our 🏡, I continued to hear little nails hit the kitchen floor as I was trying to get to sleep. I listened for a while, and tried to convince myself that one of the pups was simply getting up to get water (several different times).


Then the sound was becoming increasingly close to our bedroom, and I heard groans directly outside our door. That was “not possible”, I thought. But, I begrudgingly got out of bed, and when I opened the bedroom door, there sat Mr. Whiskey! When I had put the pups to bed about 20-30 minutes prior, I placed the baby gate at the main entrance/exit of the kitchen, so they could not wander into the main areas of the house; the fact that he got out irritated me.

After opening our bedroom door, and seeing Whiskey sitting there, looking up at me; calmly, I said, “Whiskey, baby, what are you doing out of the puppy bed?” I then picked him up, nuzzled him, and walked to the entrance I mentioned.

Princess Coco was sitting there, investigating just how he got out…so that she, too, could escape; of that, I’m certain. As soon as the Princess spotted me; she began her descent back toward the puppy bed. With Whiskey in tow, I, too, started my trek to the puppy bed. Princess Coco was back in her spot on the bed, as I was putting Whiskey down onto it. 


Coco lay her sweet head on the raised edge, while Whiskey merely squat down, still looking at me with what I saw as pleading eyes. I said aloud, “Babies, you can’t sleep in the Mommy Bed tonight, Daddy has to wake early for work.” I comforted them for several minutes before returning to the bedroom.

I used the flashlight on my iPhone in order to find my way back to our bed. I had not been lying down for even an entire minute, before I heard the nails on the floor again. I knew he could not “escape” this time, so I was prepared to see Whiskey sitting at the gate when I made my way to the kitchen. 

When I walked closer to the gate, Mr. Whiskey had his ears laid back onto his head, and he was slowly trotting to the bed. It was as if he knew he was supposed to be in the puppy bed. I looked in and saw Coco with her head propped, and Whiskey was moving blankets where he could lie down with her. 


I said aloud, “Coco’s a good girl.” With more authority, I said to Whiskey, “Whiskey, baby, stay in the puppy bed…it’s okay.” I thought that perhaps he heard the cats outside the window, and he was frightened.

As I walked back toward our bedroom this time, I halted in the middle of the hallway for a few minutes. When I ascertained that Whiskey was not going to get out of bed this time, I trekked back to our bedroom. 

Right as I was about to lay down beside my love, I heard nails hit the floor…and several moments later, the sound became closer. I was already grabbing my pillow, and my phone, when James began stirring, and moaning…I told him that something was bothering Whiskey, and that I was going to sleep in Mom’s room (the extra bedroom) with the babies. I kissed James, and started BACK towards the kitchen; making this the third time in 20 minutes.

Not surprisingly, Whiskey was seated at the gate as I approached. Coco quickly joined him upon my entering the kitchen. I said, “Come on, babies, lets go sleep in the Grammy Bed.” With that, their tails began thumping against the floor, and I didn’t have time to push the gate all the way out of the way, before they were in the extra bedroom, and sitting on the “Grammy Bed.”


As I was going to turn off the kitchen lights…a foul odor reached my nostrils. As I walked to the laundry room, where the “potty pad” is; I saw it. My poor baby’s tummy was upset, and that is why he kept wanting attention! Closing the door to “Grammy’s room,” I cleaned up the mess my poor baby had not wanted to make indoors.

Now, we are all 3 in the extra bedroom, lying on the “Grammy Bed.” I feel horrible, because I didn’t think about his possibly trying to tell me that he needed to go outside (again). My Mom would have immediately asked him if he needed to go potty…I’m not sure why I failed to do that!

As I said at the start of this, I am paying for what I have always found to be dumb/stupid. I’m allowing DOGS to play a role in my life that a (human) child would. I feel so silly for always saying to folks who treat their dogs as family; “IT’S JUST A DOG!” 


These two 4-legged, furry, children of mine; haven’t ever been, nor will they ever be considered “JUST A DOG!” I don’t know what I would do without their pure love…and loyalty. I’m one of the people I once mocked. Whiskey nor Coco will ever be “just dog’s.” They truly are my children.

June 2012-My friend, Chris and me in Hollywood, CA.
Hollywood Blvd. the band, Alabama and their star on ‘The Walk of Fame’

Maybe what Woody Allen said about love best describes the definition of it:

“Oh, now there’s only one kind of love that lasts. That’s unrequited love. It stays with you forever.”

Maybe romantic love is not all that complicated and we try to make it more difficult than it truly is. It could be that each of us only gets that one true love.

Why do we all try to make believe that we deserve so much more than the love that is offered to us? It seems that the person who offers their love is never quite good enough–they do not have the chance to even touch the pedestal that is built in our minds; the ones who offer to love do not even have the opportunity to stand remotely close to the pedestal we built for others to stand on.

Maybe they are too good for the pedestal and that is what frightens us. It is much easier to deal with the heartaches that love gives us instead of the elated feeling where your heart is swelling at the mere mention of someone’s name.

Why is it that we would much rather love “the one who got away” instead of the one who is right there willing to accept and give you their love?

Why do we get the second chance at having another’s love? It is both a good feeling and also a bad one. It is good, because we feel great when someone admits that they have always loved us from afar. We feel badly because for it to have been so obvious…how is it we never caught on?

Sometimes, love offers us a second chance…we should immediately take hold and never let go, because there are only so many “second chances” before life just gives up on us.