3am

I went out briefly last night… met Kelly and co at Trinity after I left the gym. The Chelsea game was on, which is occasion for a few drinks at the pub…not that it means much to me yet.
I left at, what I thought, was a reasonable (if not late) time for someone who gets up at 6 to run with her dog… 9:20ish. Kelly commented that Dexter is running my life. I guess I couldn’t really argue… I didn’t agree but there wasn’t much of an argument I could present that would get me out of there so I gave it up.
Apparently Dexter has some 6th sense… and knows that I had this conversation and didn’t deny how high a level of control he has.
Dexter woke me up at 3 o'clock this morning... for no real reason. He usually sleeps through the night, so if he was waking me up I assumed it was an emergency. After our previous bedtime debacle I didn’t want to risk it. I begrudgingly took him down to pee and he didn't do much... not enough to quantify an emergency at least.
This is completely inexcusable... next time I think I’m going to lock him in the closet or something. He steps on my face when he wants to wake me up... it's effective, I suppose, but also a VERY unpleasant way to wake up.
Especially at 3 in the morning.
Especially when you have a dog with a record of leakage (the business end that close to my face… not a pretty first-thing-to-see-when-you-wake-up).
Especially when you find out he just wants to play.

I’m contemplating puppy soup for dinner tonight.