Music of the Night

     My 20-year-old cassette player makes a loud “click” when it’s done, bringing a rudely, abrupt ending to the chanting monks. The sound left behind-- two snoring dogs and a purring cat.

    Layered beneath this is a heavenly host of crickets in tinnitus-like unison.

 In the background, I hear Rosey’s family barking in the distance—a neighbor’s dog has come to check on Rosey.  

     Then I hear that other sound…that slurping, glopping awful sound of a dog that’s back to licking...     
     It’s 2 am. Rosey’s awake and miserable. Apparently her meds have worn off. I go online and check out Benedryl dosages for dogs. If it’s good for Tj’s hot spot, it might help Rosey’s itching as well.Armed with info, I head to the kitchen for a slice of cheese in which to wrap said Benedryl, when I notice my aquarium frog leaping and kicking, going from pink gravel floor to top of tank and back again. Seldom is he this animated. Perhaps this is what aquarium frogs do at night when we’re not looking.

     I pause to feed him and his tank-mate, a double-tail betta, when I notice Picasso stuck in a cross web of seaweed near the top of the tank. (Apparently leaving tank lights on round the clock causes green stuff to double. As a result, Picasso’s flow-y blue fins are mixed in with the greens. He looks like a miniature Seahawks fan doing his one-betta version of the wave. The colors were pretty, but the scene was slightly disturbing.)     

I stop to dislodge my fish, removing the extra long seaweed strand from the tank. By now Boo has positioned himself squarely in front his feeding bowl. The next familiar sound is that of dry cat food hitting porcelain to go along with the hum of the aquarium filter.

     Grabbing cheese slices I spy a completely full dog bowl, meaning antibiotics are not in Rosey’s system (dang it). I go for a second slice of cheese and add five more capsules to her late night snack.

      A belly rub (actually more like a fingernail scratch) and 25 minutes later, Rosey's back to snoring. By morning (like real morning…not 2 am morning) Rosey’s stitched up belly is back to proper pinkish tones and life is good again.