WILL POWER AND ANGER.

Recently my roommate went home for the weekend and I volunteered to watch the little dog, Ralph, who lives in our apartment. I did this freely and of my own free will, thinking it would be good bonding time for me and the little fellow. He spent years living with only ladies, so a weekend alone with the boys would do him some good.

The first day went great. We went for a walk and aside from the fact that he kept eating grass and rubbing his face on urine-soaked walls, we were getting on just fine. I've taken him for walks before and am no longer annoyed that he has to smell everything. Other dogs seem to understand the concept of walking as a form of travel, while Ralph sees it as a thirty minute, one block smell tour.

Anyways, it was a Saturday. It was hot outside and I really had nothing to do. So I sat around the apartment watching television. Ralph sat with me. I thought he would be anxious and want to play or something, but that's not Ralph's style. Ralph is more like a cat than a dog. He walks around the apartment, occasionally tries to eat trash, but mostly just sits and watches you. Today I wasn't doing anything, so he got tired of watching me and went to sleep instead. He slept basically all day. But so did I. After a long day and night of lounging around, I figured it was time for bed. In order to keep the trash safe, I put the trash-eater into his cage (where he lives all day when no one is home) and went to bed. The time: 2:30am. No sooner had I turned out my light, than the crying began. Little yelps coming from the next room.

At first, I resolved to let him yelp for 10 minutes or so and he would probably get tired of it and go to sleep. But no. Yelp yelp whine cry yelp. Until 3:00am. At that point I thought maybe the little guy had a legitimate gripe. It was hot, so he was probably thirsty. I got up and let him out. He bolted straight to the kitchen, only not to the water. He ran to the middle of the floor and began licking it. Annoyed, I grabbed him up, grabbed his cage and moved it into my room. I thought maybe he just wanted a person in the room with him and he would go to sleep.

This did not stop the crying.

Next logical problem solving step: let him out. He probably just wants to sleep in the bed with me. Wrong. Apparently what he wanted to do was run around my room, crying, sit by the door snorting in anger, climb onto my bed to lick my hand and basically do anything but sleep. Shit, he had slept all day; he just wasn't tired. At around 6am, after some on and off sleep, I put him back in his cage and went to sleep.

The next morning, after a few good hours of slumber, I got up and let the fuzzball out of his cage. As soon as I cracked the door, he bolted into the kitchen and began licking the floor again. Whatever was on that floor was like a drug to Ralph. All night long, all he could think about was getting back to that spot on the floor to lick it. Maybe if I had let him finish his first bout of floor-licking he would have gone right to sleep. But I've never really owned a dog, so I don't know how they work.

Regardless, it was a rocky first night. One in which I learned I can not lie still and listen to a dog cry, which makes me feel weak. I also learned that when something is keeping me from going to sleep it makes me very angry, which does not bode well for any children I may have in the future. They better learn to cry quietly from their cages.

In related news, my other roommate dropped a chicken parm sandwich on the floor that night.