Yesterday Mari asked, “They ring bells?”  Yes, Mari my dogs ring the above bells to go out.  The bells are attached to the door that leads from the kitchen to the back porch.

     We taught our old male, Malcolm to ring the bells when he wanted out.  When we added our rescue girl Sadie to the household, he taught her how to ring them.  After he died, Sadie was our only dog for a while.  Then we got Gavin.

     Sadie was old by then, but she passed on the lesson of the bells to Gavin before she died.  Gavin became an expert bell ringer.  He can ring those bells so well and loud that it will drive a person (usually me) up a wall—he likes to go out, often. 

     Gavin taught Patty how to ring the bells after she arrived on our doorstep as a rescue.  She will ring them only when she really has to go out and she does it delicately.  With Gavin it sounds like Santa’s entire sleigh is battering down the door, with Patty you will only hear a little jingle of the bells.

     Still no sun.  The second Nor’easter is working its way through here.  Today we had gray skies, rain, and wind chilled air.  I’m not a fan of cold weather, never have been.  I’m looking forward to the forecasted sixty plus degree weather and sun later this coming week.

     Even with the heat on this old house has a certain chill and dampness about it when the weather is foul.  In between cups of coffee, I drink herb teas to help chase away the cold.  It’s been cool enough that Dear Hubby dug out his flannel shirts and several of his fleece tops. 

     I can’t wear those things because when I’m not chilly my inner child is playing with matches.  She’s a disagreeable soul who never heats things up when I need her the most.  No, she waits until I’m already warm to kindle her fires.  How unkind. 

     At one point tonight, I woke poor Gavin up to have him sit with me in my chair so I could share his warmth.  He didn’t mind too much because he does enjoy cuddling.  It was his idea to flop on his back beside me with his head on my shoulder.

     All day long, the dogs wanted to go out, come in, go out, come in…well, you get the idea.  If it weren’t for the fact that I never let the dogs out without one of us with them I’d put in a damned doggie door.  As usual, around seven tonight, they both conked out. 

     The rest of evening, they snored their heads off.  That is until it began to rain around eleven and Gavin decided he needed to go again.  I do think he regretted the whole idea when I opened the door and he saw it was pouring outside.  He backed up and headed towards the kitchen door.

     “No, no, no you wanted to go out so now you will go.”  I gently booted him out.  He sighed, dashed outside, squatted (yes, he still squats half the time) and then he dashed back in to his crate and waited for a cookie.  Within minutes, he was sound asleep again.

     Since I took one out, I figured the other should go too.  I opened the door on Patty’s crate.  She did not open her eyes, lift her head, or twitch an ear, or anything else.  She was zonked.  I wasn’t going to give up I shook her.  She lifted her head and gave me the look.  The ‘what the hell do you want?’ look.

     “Come on.  Time to go out.”

     She sloooowly climbed to her feet, stretched the back end, and then stretched the front end.  Patty doesn’t hurry unless she wants to.

     I walked her to the back door, opened it, and she gave me a look that would wither any normal person in their tracks.  I never said I was normal.

     “Out.  Go pee.”

     If she were taller, had hands, and could talk I think I would’ve been grabbed by the shirt collar as she said, “You woke me for this?”

     I have a sneaking feeling that she’ll appear on my bed early in the morning to bounce around and wake me, ‘just for ‘cause.’