Weekend Column – And She’s Gone

Oct 26, 2015 by

You always thought it would happen to another couple.

So did I.

Granted, the Little Black Dress had put her foot down more than once. Given me countless ultimatums that I, to my regret, ignored. Maybe not ignored, rather promised to do better but didn’t.

Sounds familiar to some, I’m sure. Oh the what ifs …

So she finally threw in the towel and left me. And she took the dogs with her.Apparently, my snoring had reached the “it’s not over till the fat lady sings level.” How bad was it? So bad that I thought we were talking and she’d poke me saying “you’re snoring again” and I’d go “how can I be snoring if I’m talking to you?” kind of snoring.

So finally after enough nights of finding her on the couch or kicking one of the SONS out of their beds, I agreed to see a sleep doctor. They outfitted me with a home testing device with multiple electrodes.

A few days later they called me to give the results. In a nutshell, I was classified as part of the “The Undead.” Said classification meant I stopped breathing way too many times and my oxygen levels put me on par with fish.

Or something like that.

So I had to do a “sleepover” at the doctor’s office and get wired up with even more electrodes. I don’t have sleep apnea. I have SLEEP APNEA with lots of exclamation points.

So fast forward and I now have this totally overpriced air pump with a hose and a mask like those that drop out of airplanes when the air is being sucked out and you have seconds to live. Remember to put it on yourself before attending to younger children.

When I’m using this incredibly overpriced pump, it sounds like Darth Vader breathing. Which is kinda cool. At some point I will get a mask and start walking around the house with it all the while playing the “Star Wars” theme music. Halloween is coming

While I am not fond of said incredibly overpriced contraption, I no longer snore. And this means The Dress is back beside me.

That is a good thing.

What is not good is that all the dogs got so used to sleeping with the LBD, they think it’s okay to hop on now as well.

Said dogs are Roxie Love, one of those absurdly expensive crossbred miniatures that was given to us because apparently the only thing she knows to do is run away and the previous owners had enough; Indiana Jones, aka Gigantor, a cross between a Great Pyrenees, some type of shepherd and a hellhound; and Scout, which the LBD rescued at a vet clinic in Oklahoma and brought back with her. Scout is basically a white ball of hair, sometimes wider than long.

As an aside, back in college an ex-girlfriend gave me a border collie/shepherd mix puppy. I was bound and determined that dog would sleep on my bed with me. I woke up that first night with it peeing on my face. Beaumont slept on the floor from then on.

Rat dog I can handle. She just hangs at the foot of the bed like a normal dog. Indie is more of a problem. When stretched out, he’s as long as me. When he jumps on the bed … well, it’s sort of like a catapult. So he stays on the floor until I leave for work.

But the big problem is the fur ball, or Scout. She likes to sleep just above our heads, which I just find rather weird for a dog.

That’s not the problem. You see, Scout snores. Yeah, we have a snoring dog and for such a little dog, it’s a big honking snore.

I am still pondering my options.

Until next time.


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