I hate the time change twice a year. It really screws with my body, sleep, aches and pains. So I was glad when I went to bed early last night, thinking I would get good nights sleep and wake up early today.
Bootsie was standing on the dresser like a Spaniel dog pointing out the prey when Duane came in to set the alarm. We looked in the direction she was pointing and it was a big moth.
I yelled, "Oh, kill it before it's babies gobble our lively hood."
Duane whacked it with his shoe and Bootsie and I watched the denigrated leftovers float to the floor.
Bootsie, the fun hog, failed to tell her two cohorts in crime about this incident.
An hour after I fall asleep, I wake to horrible leg cramps. Bright Eyes and Ewok decided my calves were good for a cat pile.
The three parties of the first part then decided they needed to hunt down the dead moth. I have a feeling that maybe the bug's ghost was fluttering around in an attempt to get revenge on us for it's murder. The hunt was on, all night. Locking them out did no good, as they stood at the door, knocking and trying the door knob.
A nap would be nice, but this is Monday, and I'm watching Duck all day. The culprits, of course, are fast asleep, in