So, this morning the temperature took a slight dip. 

What an understatement. It’s almost like saying the Titanic had a small water problem.

While on the Titanic subject, interesting fact I read. To this day, it’s swimming pool still works. 

But, back to the story at hand.

Now, when I woke up, my weather app said it was in the upper 50s. By about 9 a.m., the app said 50. I love the cold. If I could move somewhere where it stayed cold all year long, I would. 

My dogs, however, do not. 

It isn’t uncommon while I am writing or working around the house, for the four of them to nap, or to generally be quiet.

Bill has a chair he sits on and watches the world from the front window. 

Bernie and Jada likes to nap. 

Roswell, well, he is just Roswell.

This morning they were quieter than usual.

Scary quiet.

Any parent or dog owner will tell you, silence is suspect.

So, coffee cup in hand, I went looking. 

Now, for our sanity, the boys spend inside time in the living room or kitchen. Jada spends it in the back. It’s better on our nerves that way.

Jada still hasn’t gotten attached to them. I can swear that she is trying to collect enough stamps to ship them to the French Foreign Legion. 

The boys, well, we like to keep breakable stuff unbroken. So, there is a gate between the living room and the back.

And my wife insists, on penalty of my death, they never come to the back while she is gone.

Unfortunately, this morning, Roswell must have opened the gate. Crafty little devil, he has figured out how to do little things like that.

I wouldn’t be surprised if one day he figures out how to hotwire my truck.

However, they weren’t underfoot like they usually are when they find a way back to my office.

I couldn’t find any of them.

Until I checked the bed. 

There, under the blankets, were four noses sticking out. They had found a heated room and comfy blankets and were not about to get out.

Not even the offer of cookies tempted them.

For my dogs, turning down treats is a rarity.

So, I figured, why not get my laptop and write from the bed. I was greeted with growls and grumbles.

Well, I guess, I have a few hours to figure out how to coax them out before the wife banishes me to the living room with them.

Any suggestions?

 

Michael Cole is a syndicated columnist that when he is not writing, he is plotting global domination. You can follow him at www.storyoveracup.com