The no good, very bad, totally unapproved nap

Fable versus the no good, very bad, totally unapproved nap.

It's hard being the world's Greatest Dane. Especially when your dad dares to take an unapproved nap. 

We were relaxing at the beach house after a busy week packed with dayjobs, deadlines and the double-ferry it takes to reach said beach house. It had rained that morning, not a heavy rain, but enough that Fabes had decided to skip her morning sojourn -- and Hubs and I were only too happy to support this plan. Or perhaps I should say lack of plan.  

Hubs was really embracing the relaxed tone of the day. In fact, he thought it was the perfect moment to have a midday nap.

You see where this is going, huh?

And you're right. The moment he fell asleep, Fabes decided it was time to rise.

She rose from her prone position and shot me a disgusted look. 

Her gummies scrunched to the side.

How dare her man lie there, comfortable and wholly unaware of her needs? He should remain vigilant, ready in case she should decide it's time to go out.

Since she'd decided it was time, he should be leaping into action.

Only the snooze continued.

I told her that we'd go for a walk when her man got up. It was only a short nap after all. She could wait a few minutes. 

She let out a huff of disgust at the suggestion she wait -- four letter word, mom -- and then flopped onto her back. Clearly the sheer power of her cute would compel her dad to rise.

But he did not rise. This was unacceptable -- it was also very confusing to a dog who should be the center of his world. 

Fable sat and stared at him for a long moment. 

"Fabes," I said softly, "let dad sleep."

The only reply was another huff. 

But I could see the wheels in her brain turning: Why wasn't he sensing her needs? Why wasn't he leaping into action at her quietly whined demanded for a walk Right Now? 

It didn't matter that dad was asleep and not intentionally ignoring her. She was being ignored and it would not stand.

The answer was clear: she needed more volume.

Her gummies scrunched with concentration (and probably some measure of frustration at things coming to this). Her tail thumped against the carpet. 

And she barked -- loudly.

I shushed her and tried to send her to her bed... but at this point I was laughing far too hard to be taken seriously. And so was my hubs, who'd woken, figured out what was afoot, and was already chuckling from the recliner.

Fabes didn't love being laughed at, but she sure loved the long walk and beach adventure that followed (even if her and dad didn't manage to pull the giant stick onto the yard).

See, Fable says, she had a great plan. The bestest plan even! Look at all the fun dad had pulling the big stick for her. 

Luv, 
Dee