It’s five o’clock right here on the Front Range… Zero-Five-Hundred, that is.
Our Golden Retriever, Ty, figured out a few years ago that when he wants back inside, all he had to do was bark quietly at the front door. He was so good about it that he really only barked loudly enough to be barely heard inside.
My wife and I called it his “polite bark.”
Now that he’s older and grouchier, he just barks loudly at any door he wants opened.
We no longer call it a polite bark. What we do call it isn’t repeatable in polite company.
Including the bedroom door of my 16-year-old, where Ty usually sleeps at night.
So it was at about 3am that Ty decided he needed out of my son’s room.
My son, being 16, is able to sleep right through all the grouchy barks.
But not me.
He’s supposed to leave his bedroom door cracked at night, but of course, that doesn’t always happen.
What I’m trying to say is, there’s going to be lots of extra coffee between now and Thursday’s “Five O’Clock Somewhere,” and maybe one less teenager.
See you Thursday — can’t wait!
P.S. If you aren’t already a VIP Gold supporter, what are you waiting for?
