Idle Minutes

You’ve heard of Snoop Doggy Dog I suppose, the rapper?

Well this is Sleep Doggy Dog. My doggy dog Rosie. Also known as Rosebud, Little Dog, and Bark-a-Lounger.

It occurred to me the other day that in the twelve years Rosie has graced us with her presence, I have sketched her but twice.

That is about to change because I now realize I’ve had a great little subject following me around all these years.

I learn something every time I sketch. Sometimes oddities are revealed to me. This sketch of Rosie revealed an oddity.

You see, at twelve years, Rosie is a really heavy sleeper. The big Corgi ears still work but not as well as a few years ago. And the brain is still playful and sharp but not nearly as prone to keeping watch all the live long day.

As an example, just a few days ago I walked up to her as she slept in this her favorite position. I called her name quietly. Not a stir. I touched her head. Not a stir.
It was not until I rubbed the top of her thick furry neck with a firm hand that she awoke.
Sleep Doggy Dog indeed.

Which brings me to the oddity.

I carefully and quietly sat down on the floor in front of her last night around two in the morning as she slept. I was five feet from her, sketchbook and pen in hand. As usual she was completely zonked out. Not a stir. Not a flicker of a change that indicated I had disturbed her sleep in any way whatsoever.

I sat still for ten or fifteen seconds. Still sound asleep. Deeply asleep. Not a flinch, not a sigh, nothing.

I began sketching her loose and quick and quiet. Scritch, scritch, scratch - the pen making barely audible noises on the grainy watercolor paper.

I got the angle pretty good on the nose and snout then started concentrating on the position of her eyes and…danged if she didn’t wake up!

I froze. How odd! It takes a hard rub on the neck any other time to roust her. I was certain she would just lay there and snooze.

She slowly cracked open her eyes, rolled them up at me for a second or two, then turned and raised her head, and looked at me.

It was a look that said, “If I didn’t know you, I’d bark at you. What the hell are you doin’?”

I am certain it was not the pen on paper noises that woke her. She was awakened from the deepest of sleep by the electricity of me watching her.

I realized at that moment how odd it is that animals, including us, are so sensitive to being watched. Even in a deep, deep sleep our brains tip us off that somebody or something is really checking us out.

It brings to mind the punch line from a joke about the hot and cold “awareness” of a thermos bottle…”How do it know?”

Rosie by the way did not resume her sleep. I continued to sketch her pose from the memory of thirty seconds past. As I did so, she got up, streeeeeetched, toddled the five feet over to me, and gave me three or four licks on the face.

Good doggy dog.