Partners In Crime

Barnsters MacGrumblybum, Christmas 2008

Last night I could not sleep. I tossed and turned and the dogs were just everywhere and finally I realized I was never going to sleep, so I got up.

Barnaby couldn't sleep either, so we wandered around the house for a bit and downloaded some music. Then I decided to clean the spare bedrooms.

We were such a good team, me and Barney. I'd rearrange shelves and he'd stop to sniff things, and when he gave the go ahead I'd put something new there. I think Barney was really hoping I'd produce a treat out of my pocket or maybe let him out to verbally abuse our neighbor's dog. But he has this funny way of sitting on his stumpy little legs and looking at me with his head cocked to the side, like a psychiatrist analyzing my moves, and when I ask him what he thinks he seems to actually have an opinion. I don't know, it was late.

By two in the morning I felt like things were in good shape and so we silently turned off all the lights. I let Barnaby out to the back yard under strict orders that he was to speak to no one, and after he'd done his business he padded softly back inside. It was like we were ninjas, accomplishing all this in the dead of night while The Holbs slept in the bedroom.

In the pitch blackness of the bedroom I felt along the floor, found Barney's scruffy schnoz, felt back to his bum and then hoisted him on the bed.

Partners. In cleaning crime. Good job, Barneyskoodles.