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My life as a zombie

August 8, 2007 - Amy Jo Hanna-Eckenrode

It’s 3am. What are you doing?

A few minutes ago I was deep in dreamland. I was awakened by Mazey’s frantic panting and pawing. Her big golden paw nudged my arm until I acknowledged her impending crisis. Darn… lightning. So much for sleep. Cause if Mazey ain’t sleepin’, ain’t nobody sleepin’.

zombieResembling a zombie in any cult film, I have wandered around the house trying to distract her. Just when she begins to settle, BOOM! Thunder. For 40 minutes we walk. We’re upstairs, we’re downstairs, we’re on the loveseat, we’re on the chair (made for one). We’re in the kitchen looking for a safe place to take refuge. It’s finally found behind the TV. Hopefully the thunderstorm pill will kick in soon and the Lavender air freshener I sprayed will sooth her stress (they say the smell of Lavender works as a calming agent for anxious dogs.)

Alrighty, it’s almost 3:30am. The worst of the storm must have passed. Jesse is sound asleep beside me. Mazey is now securely tucked away in the corner behind the TV. H-E-L-L-O! I’m wide awake. Delirious, but wide awake. Guess I’ll go start counting sheep…

(Photo: I am certain this is what Mazey must see when she wakes me up.)

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