Fuzzy’s still sleeping – and can you blame him? He was up for 36 hours straight, not including a nap on the plane, which finally landed shortly before two AM.

Cleo is sleeping. She had a tiring night, last night, having to run and check to see if Daddy was home, every time the dryer squeaked in the mud room (it connects to the garage), and then she chased a rodent around the dark back yard for an hour. Poor tired doggy. She was so floppy when we went to bed, finally, that even her knees were wrinkly. I love the way that happens to dogs – that they get so tired they can’t even hold their skin taut – it’s cute.

Zorro is sleeping. He was tucked between us for much of the night, but now he’s in a ball at the foot of the bed, nose to tail, the way dogs sleep. He gets very upset when his people are in different rooms of the house, so when Fuzzy was in the living room eating his sandwich last night, and I was in bed reading, he was forced to pace between us and chuff indignantly.

I am awake, obviously, because I haven’t yet mastered the art of blogging in my sleep, though in previous year blogathons I’ve come awfully close. I should be working on my book, or cleaning the kitchen, or any number of other things, but I’d rather stay here in the bed with Fuzzy and the dogs.

Even though I’m not sleepy.