OK, We're Up.

Levitation by foghorn is how I tend to think of it. This is how Ray woke us up at 4:30 this morning. He was directly outside of our bedroom door, the only thing keeping him there was the hook and eye holding the door open just enough for the cats to come and go. Hugo was snuggled up next to me under the brown, fleecy throw that I keep on top of our bedspread. Gregg and I had been snoozing peacefully ('tis the season). One yell was all it took.

I scrambled out of bed and to the bathroom to grab some clothes. If Ray was actually yelling, he must have to go out pretty badly. He's never yelled outside our door before. I wondered if he'd been whining there for awhile and we had been sleeping so soundly that we hadn't heard him. I heard Gregg head down the hallway to the other bathroom. I walked back through the dark bedroom to the hall where Ray was presumably standing with legs crossed only to be met by... nothing. I turned around and headed back to the bedroom.

Ray was standing in the middle of the bed, his head down and his ears deployed in full dumbo mode. He was "staring" at a brown lump on the bed that was hissing and growling. Hugo had been caught unawares by the big dog and was still under the fleecy throw. Ray was intrigued and mystified; he'd never had the bed growl and hiss at him and he'd slept there many times before. I reached across the bed to grab his collar and pull him down before he decided that the hissy thing needed to be investigated further. We headed down the stairs to the back door. Ray went out into the cold, cold, windy night while I stood by the back door, shivering. I was really hoping that there wasn't going to be any yelling going on in the back yard that would make me dash outside. Ray, good dog that he is, quietly came inside and we headed back upstairs. Me to my bed, and Ray to his futon.