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November 6, 2013

I jerk awake.

Thud! The sliding door rattles.

Is someone trying to break in? I can hear scuffling and panting outside, then the sliding door is attacked again.

Thud! More scuffling and panting.

What is going on?! I creep out of bed and peek through a gap in the curtains.

It is Tilmonster. Playing football.

“Go to sleep, Tils! It’s past midnight!” I yell at her.

She continues scuffling with the ball, as if to point out the irrelevance of time when she has so much energy to burn.

Demon dog. I know for a fact that I left the football at the other end of the house earlier today. All that lovely space to play in, but she deliberately brought the ball around to my bedroom for maximum sleep interruption. Evidently, this is a planned consequence because I didn’t take her out for a walk.

Fine. Let’s see how long she can keep this up if I pretend that I don’t care. I resolve to ignore her and return to bed.





WARGHHH!! I fling the covers off and shove the sliding door open. Tilmonster wags her tail, ball rolling (escaping) away from her. I stomp over and confiscate the football. Hah!

She glares at me. Then runs off to get the rugby ball.

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