It's Nice to Be Loved

Migraines -- oh, how I hate them!  I'm only an on-again, off-again sufferer, but when they do hit me they hit hard.  Last night's migraine kept me awake, and I knew that if I ever DID get to sleep, I'd need to sleep in if I were to beat it.  So, around 2:30 a.m. (almost unbelievably, about the time my dear husband is getting UP for his workday!), I left a note for Charissa to please take care of Alfie for me in the morning, and explained what was going on so she wouldn't worry.

But how does one go about leaving a note for a dog?  It didn't really occur to me that he might worry too.

When I stumbled over and groggily opened the bedroom door a little before 10 a.m., I nearly tripped over Alfie, who scrambled up, tail a blur, then proceeded to check me all over, lick me, and bound around as if he'd just won the lottery or something! 

The girls came over and told me that although they'd taken care of him as asked, after his potty break he insisted on coming back to my door.  They tried to feed him, but apparently he walked away, and even after they did coax him to eat he'd left half of his breakfast untouched (a claim I wouldn't have believed if I didn't see the kibble myself!  Alfie is all about food!)  Not even his favorite bones and toys would cheer him up.  Instead he lay at the door, yawning nervously, obviously...what?  Concerned?  Unsure?  At a loss?  I wonder if, like Dakota the diabetic alert dog (sidebar), he could even smell some sort of changes in my body chemistry and somehow suspected that all wasn't quite right with my world.  Wouldn't surprise me too much.

But although I may not totally understand what dogs feel at times like that, it's clear they understand something, and they do care about their people!  Even more clear was his joy at seeing me again.  As if to underscore that, he dashed off down the hall...

...only to return a moment later with a toy for me to throw for him!  Everything's back to normal. 

And, yes, I suppose it IS nice to be loved!