Let sleeping dogs lie

It was a dark and stormy night...

Well, it wasn't exactly stormy, but it was dark. Mostly it was a dark and noisy night. I'm scared of the dark, I admit it. I'm a great big wuss when it comes to shadows, impenetrable gloom and so forth. But I'm not as a big of a wuss as my dog Ryder. He's the biggest 'fraidy cat since Scooby Doo. I usually have to tag along when he goes potty in the night. If I don't, he'll freak out at some shadow and I'll just end up having to go rescue him. That's pretty much what happened last night.

It was so cold that I decided Ryder was just going to have to brave the dark alone. It went badly from the start when he balked on his way through the door. The only bit that hadn't exited was his extremely long tail and I accidentally shut the door on it.

After I apologized and kissed his poor widdle tail better (no I am NOT the reason he's a wuss, shush), I managed to convince him to go out again. I closed the door and opened the curtains so that he'd be able to see inside and get a little extra light. I think that's where I went wrong. If I'd turned off all the lights and left him in the dark, he wouldn't have seen the hedgehog, although I suppose he might have smelled it.

We have a resident hedgehog; like most folks who overfeed their cats. Ours is named Spike and he has a superiority complex. He loves our particular brand of cat food and is prepared to take on anything to get at it. I often open the front door to find three miserable cats watching Spike eat their dinner.

If the cats have a difficult relationship with Spike, Ryder has a worse one. The first time he heard Spike grunting and wuffling around our front door, he ran around the house screaming and trying to find somewhere to hide. If he'd had petticoats, he'd have been lifting them and looking for a stool to stand on.

When he eventually met Spike in person, his fear was replaced by hope. Finally here was an animal small enough that he just might stand a chance of winning if he took it on. He'd been wrong when he thought that about the cats, so you'd think he'd have been more cautious. He ran up to sniff Spike who rolled into a ball, as hedgehogs tend to do. Ryder's only reward was a good nose prickling. He ran inside and tried to hide under my bed, which is a bit futile since it sits directly on the floor.

Now that Spikes bettered every carnivore on the property, his confidence has peaked. Last night, he must have really been feeling full of himself, because he decided to harass the biggest carnivore we've got.

Ryder was desperate to get back inside and was squeezing for all he was worth when Spike decided to come and say 'Hi'. There wasn't an awful lot Ryder could do under the circumstances, other than scream, so that's what he did. A lot. And really loudly.

It was 2am and I felt I owed it to the neighbours to try and subdue things, so I went to the rescue. Ryder was hyperventilating and stumbling around in a half-crouch with Spike "The Terminator" hedgehog in hot pursuit. My only option was to grab the spade and corner Spike, who promptly rolled into a ball. I scooped him up and deposited him in the safety of the front yard. Sure, he'd spend the rest of the evening terrorizing the cats, but they don't bark and won't come inside, so they're on their own.

I'm not sure if dogs can have a nervous breakdown, but if they can, I think Ryder had one. Every little sound for the rest of the night set him howling. It's now midday and while the sun's not shining brightly, it's certainly not dark, but Ryders still nervous. I hope this doesn't mean he's going to be afraid of daylight too or I may have to resort to doggy Prozac or something. At least he's sleeping now, lucky sod. Wish I was.