There is, normally, no way to greet an Oh-Dark bark other than with groggy disdain. This is especially true when the dog would rather eat snow than drink water from a bowl. Exit the warm bed, wander to the door and hope to sidestep the blast of arctic winter air making a play for the dining room.
Relieved (one way or another), the K9 jumps back into bed, cold wet paws pressed up against cramped bodies under the covers. Slumberus interuptus.
Colfax Marathon Day. No, I had not taken leave of my few senses, to run along with the young and fit. I was the sergeant assigned to "supervise" a group of bike cops working security at one of the locations. Roll Call - 0500. On the course by 6, ready for the first runners shortly thereafter. I set two alarms and went to bed early.
Woof. Woof.
WTF? There was no snow on the ground. CJ had been sleeping through the night recently. How about you let me just lay here, keep warm and make the most of the rest of my "night."
Woof WOOF!
Fine. I let her out and looked at the clock.
Our police psychologist has specifically said not to catch the time during mid-sleep awake periods. Why? Because math (especially for a Greer) is a higher brain activity. You look at the display and immediately calculate how much sack time remains. Can't hurt.
0433. Twelve more minutes before the...
Oh, fuck!
It is possible to dress in a uniform, shave and be out of the house in 12 minutes. Getting to the station takes perhaps 7-10 minutes, fewer if the roads are empty and CSP is at shift change. I may have looked frazzled, I may have been a colossal shit show, but I got to roll call with time to spare.
I love my PWD CJ.
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