At Least They're Committed

Having spent a good part of the night half-dreaming that there was something evil in my small corner bedroom and possibly in my bed, I must admit I’m a bit fatigued today. My dog refused to sleep with me and she had nightmares throughout the night — whimpering and clawing at the walls — while huddled in her own bed. Not a good sign if you believe in any of that. The Dec. 31 Incident doesn’t help.

The weather was bitter the final hours of 2012 and the dogs were snuggled into their respective crates, closets or room. Bugaboo was putting finishing touches on her resume’ and I was leaning over her shoulder to see her progress and ensure she used the right “there vs. their vs. they’re.” BAM! There was a loud slamming noise upstairs. Ms. Mina, who has full run of the room when in from the cold, has been known to toss her toys in the air then leap to catch them, tearing around the tight confines of the floor, up onto and over the bed. “Jesus!” I said and we went on with what were are doing.

Minutes later, as I switched places with Bugaboo for finishing touches, I asked her to go let Mina out for a poddy break. The dog darted past, I opened the glass door and out she went to do her deed.

“That was hard to get open, with the bed against the door!” Bug said.

Bed against the door? I took the stairs in twos curious to see what horrible fate had befallen my newly decorated room at the paws of the Mischievous Mina. The door was open only far enough to let out the 28-pounder. The bed — frame, box springs and mattress — were not only pushed against the door, but pushed up onto the wall. My head rests against the eastern side of the room. The bedroom door is on the west. Can a mid-sized dog upend a bed in such a way? D and I were pushing the bed back to it’s rightful spot when I noticed the closet doors had been knocked off their hinges. That I can believe of a frightened animal. But the bed?

Kari, who turned me on to the festively decorated skeletons that are now painted on the light switch and outlet plates and sitting next to the lamp on my dresser, said to redecorate, and quickly. She said I’d gotten a bad calaveras.

But I rather like them. So, instead I first removed my new Dante Demon Doll, who is pictured earlier in this blog. When the dog again seemed fearful at night, I the next night removed the featured I’d written on La Muerte (the Mexican Grim Reaper) nearly 20 years past from above my bed. And I put the dreamcatcher Maddie made me there instead.

Now, whether you believe in all that or not — I mean, I don’t even know if I believe, I just keep an open mind — it did seem to help. The dog relaxed, I occasionally relax. Well, until last night.

And so as I lay there thinking I was awake and of things I perceive as going bump in the night — at one point I put my hand forward and there was a strange cloth doll standing at the head of my bed looking at me and I thought, “who would do that? who would do that?” and then I realized it was all in my head — I wondered why I’m even concerned. I’m not afraid of dying and if it’s my time, well, so be it. And for that matter, I’m not altogether afraid of evil. It’s everywhere — around me, in me — so having it in my room should be of little or no concern.

Perhaps I’m just a bit unsettled by the unknown. Yes, yes, that could be it. There is good and evil and necessary evil, and then there is the unknown. Having conquered so much in my life, I’m just not sure that’s a fear that can be tackled.