Sleepwalking

A little over a week ago, I returned home after spending two weeks out east with Ma and Pa. I had a lot of fun during that vacation. I played with Flo the Golden Retriever two doors down, bunked noses with Bruno the Boxer next door, and helped Pa shellac the porch (yes, I currently have shellac on my head). I also got into a bit of a snag with a sticky trap, but the less said about that the better.

Sister, meanwhile, was holding down the fort at home which sadly did not include baking me homemade cookies or buying me a store-full of squeaky toys. She told me that she kept an eye on the squirrel population for me while I was gone, but I know she has a soft spot for that stupid little half squirrel half bunny hybrid Stumpy, so I’m not overly convinced she maintained any order.

Anyway, when I got home from vacation, Sister was nowhere to be seen because she was still at work. I was disappointed not to be able to greet Sister after so much time apart, however, I was also really exhausted so I decided to pass the time waiting for her by snoozing in the bedroom.

A few hours later, a commotion in the kitchen woke me up from my slumber. After a big long yawn and stretch, I wandered out of the bedroom and into the kitchen to find Sister telling Ma about her day. Happy to see her, I quickly grabbed a toy (I greet every family member or visitor I see with a toy of some sort) and scurried over to Sister’s side. Sister gave my ears a rub, laughed, then turned towards Ma. “Looks like someone decided to say hello while awake this time,” she said.

My ears squared. What did Sister mean by that?

A little while later, I heard the following story:

When Sister first arrived home, I immediately stumbled out of the bedroom and met her at the side door. Needing something to greet her with, I reached over and grabbed my towel off the banister leading downstairs. Then, I just stood there—towel draped from my mouth, my tail still, and my ears down.

Sister touched my nose. It was dry. She then bent down and looked me in the eyes. They were empty, dark, unfocused, and expressionless. Sister then laughed and looked up at Ma. “I think he’s sleepwalking,” Sister said.

I stood in front of Sister, towel in my mouth, for another minute or so before turning around and shuffling back into the bedroom.

And that’s where I stayed for another five minutes until Sister and Ma’s conversation woke me up.