Last night I picked up my sister from the airport. Since her plane arrived at midnight, we didn't get home until 1:30 this morning. After introducing Kristine to Jackson and bringing in her bags and some things of mine, we both headed to bed. Even though I figured Rick had heard us come in, I slipped in our bedroom quietly so as not to disturb him more. As soon as I closed the door, I heard a sound I knew -- the mumbled, wrathful roar that Rick makes when he's having a nightmare about fighting off something bad -- along with the whoosh of covers being thrown back. I SHRIEKED "Rick! It's me! It's me!" -- scaring my sister half to death but having the desired effect of waking Rick up before he reached me in full sleep-charging attack mode. I have a big ol' bruise on my rump from slamming backward into the door handle in my attempt to get out of his way!
Six hours later while doing chores, I noticed Braveheart was chasing Dinah round and round the fold, a ram intent on breeding a ewe intent on evading his attentions. When chubby Dinah's breath started coming in loud, raspy gasps, I decided intervention was necessary. I haltered Braveheart and led him out to the rainy, muddy sheep lot and left him out there by himself. Figured he could run himself silly rather than making one of my ewes sick or causing her to lose her lambs. At least he was a gentleman to catch and lead, both going out and coming in later -- AND he has a quiet voice!
Testosterone: can't live with it, and can't live without it!
That's it for now at . . .
5 comments:
My father used to do that. If I had to wake him in the middle of the night (he was the lesser of two evils to rise out of a deep sleep), I always shook him and then jumped back as far as I could. His arms would flail and he'd start making half-yelling, half-crying "huh, huh" sounds until he came to life. Scared the bejesus out of me but, as I said, my mother was worse. In short, I tried not to wake either of them unless I absolutely had to do so.
Thank heavens Ralph doesn't do that. I'm usually the one with all the weird dreams.
I'm glad you're OK, even with the doorknob tatoo. :)
And yes, those rams are just full of hormones this time of year. I will soon be removing the girls from Skit and putting all the boys together again. Blessa will be glad as she's the only girl not in with the breeding group. But all the older ones are settled and will have nothing to do with Skit, much to his dismay.
What you forgot to mention was that I was in the living room, about to head down the stairs, and that your scream happened the same moment you turned the lights off. So there I was, in the dark, wondering if some bad person had cut the power, and what kind of heroic action was required of me! I know we're laughing about it now, but that was one freaky moment! :)
Lauren, what in the world did your mother do? Sounds SCARY!
I should note that Rick has never done anything like this before. He wakes me up occasionally with his nightmares, making that noise, but he's never left the bed. (Once he did smack me hard in the middle of the back while flailing at his dreamworld assailant. That's why I'm quick to wake him up when he starts growling....)
Good thing we have something to blame it on ie testosterone, or we wouldn't have a clue about what was causing their problem.
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