The new puppy--he's now 9 I/2 weeks old--is mostly a joy. During the day he's happy, playful, as sweet as can be, and, of course, adorable. Temperament-wise, he's much calmer than our first two dogs. He is already being trained to do "sit" and "down," and is picking it up fairly quickly. He recognizes his name, never wanders when I take him outside to do his business, and follows me up the deck stairs once he's done.
Here's the problem--and it's a doozie: He still hates his crate. And his interminable yips, moans and cries when he's placed there at night have translated into much sleeplessness for me and my husband. (My teenaged son, thankfully, has somehow managed to sleep through it all.)
The days and days of sleeplessness have triggered a wicked case of insomnia--mine. I've have trouble with sleeplessness in the past; at the best of times, my sleep is a delicate thing. However, I haven't experienced this kind of insomnia--the kind that feels as though an electrical current is running through you; the kind that takes on a life of its own and is thus next to impossible to curb--in 17 years.
So if you happen to notice more typos than usual in my blog posts, or if my thoughts seem more scattered, or if my productivity suddenly declines, you'll know why.