Seamus is in loooove. He's got a little dog friend named Lucy who lives in a house on the street behind our house. She's a very sweet, very little dog -- I think some sort of rat terrier -- whose owners are very nice, but a little casual about things like keeping her on a leash. Every morning when we're out for our walk we just have to swing by Lucy's house just in case she's outside. Seamus is actually pretty insistent about that.
And now Lucy is in heat, and Seamus is just beside himself. He's up and down. He runs in to the kitchen, click-click-click-click, to peer longingly out the window. Then, click-click-click-click, he comes trotting back into the living room to flop down at the top the stairs, sigh, and lie there, willing the front door to open. A few minutes later, it's click-click-click-click, back to the kitchen. Every once in a while, like this afternoon when Lucy was actually out running around in the space between the back of our house and the back of her house, he started fussing to himself.
He's so worked up that he can't sleep, which means I don't get much sleep. On Friday night I actually encouraged him to get out of the bedroom, because the endless pacing and silent pining was keeping me up. I think he spent half the night standing in the kitchen, looking out the back window. This morning he started trying to wake me up somewhere around 5 am. Not cool.
I feel bad for the little guy, totally at the mercy of his instincts. At the same time, I sure hope this doesn't last much longer. I need my sleep. And click-click-click-click, flop, followed by intense obsessing is getting old.
My daughter's not getting much sleep lately. I sincerely doubt it's for the same reason.