Our late-night visitor

A few weeks ago, Paul woke up at 3 a.m. with a headache. While he was lying in bed contemplating which painreliever to use, he heard some barking coming from behind our house. There is a huge nature preserve that backs up to our property, and coyotes like to have a run-around in there. So at first, he thought it was those guys having a little late-night howl. But the longer he listened, the more he thought it sounded like a dog. So armed with a headlamp, snow boots and a fleece, he headed out into the yard to check it out. (At this point, I am up and muttering obsenities at him, and generally acting like cranky, woke-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night Sheri.)

Paul should really be telling this part of the story. But from what I've heard, he shines his light into the woods and sees two eyes reflecting back at him from the other side of the fence. He gets closer, and closer, until he can tell it's a very cold and wet dog. So he leads the dog to a gap in the fence and up to our back deck. (At which point I say, "That muddy dog is not coming in the house. He can go down in the garage.") But I do take the phone number from the dog's collar and call the owners. At quarter to four in the morning! By the way the woman answered the phone, I could tell she was glad to be getting the phone call, and that made me happy. It turns out our friend Rudy had been on a nearly 12-hour adventure that began with him chasing a deer and ended with him on the other side of a river that he couldn't cross again. His owners happily picked him up, and he got to finish out the night in a warm dog bed.

I married a swell guy, didn't I? Good thing that dog picked our house to bark at. :)

P.S. - We are ready for Easter! And thanks to Borg Warner sending Paul to England, we have the "real deal" Cadbury's this year.