At precisely 11:46 pm last night, the Toddler suddenly realized that her new bed does not quite resemble the prison she had grown accustomed to--she discovered the ability to get out of bed, even in the dark. I heard the soft little thump, thump, thump of toddler footsteps in the hall and waited patiently as she worked at the door knob to our room. Shortly thereafter, I realized that our dogs are useless.
I am a light sleeper. It is a well-documented fact that every little creak, moan, whisper, and bump in the night is enough to wake me up. In the fall and spring when we keep the windows open all the time, I always hope that our neighbors will show their love by keeping their windows closed. The guy two doors down literally woke me up one night when he had a coughing fit at 2:00 in the morning. I packed away the baby monitor well over a year ago since I really didn't need to be awakened by every breath Alexis took. I can't sleep through anything.
So, the first sign I had that Alexis had gotten out of her bed in the middle of the night was when I heard her open her door. (She's also a light sleeper and since the move to the toddler bed, the cats have been driving her nuts when they go in her room at night. I decided to just lock them out.) I listened intently to hear if Alexis would try playing a rousing game of Dora the Explorer while rummaging through the kitchen cabinets, or if she was headed my way. As I realized she was headed my way, I planned my response.
What I didn't plan was the dogs' response. First, you should know that Jasmine is a Lhasa Apso. She was bred to be a sort of early warning system. Way back in her homeland of Tibet, a Lhasa's job was to sit in the lap of royalty and at the slightest noise, they are to go all sorts of crazy, thereby alerting the bigger dogs that can actually do something about the intruder. As soon as a Lhasa knows that someone else is taking care of the problem, they stop barking. Meg (the Bulldog) has zero watchdog skills. She has gotten the idea into her head that she should just bark anytime Jasmine barks, except she doesn't know when to stop. Her bark is so loud and so deep that you would think she was a 200-pound beast, and not just a 50-pound beast that is scared to death of empty paper towel rolls. Meg's bark, in turn, sets Jasmine off again and on and on they go, usually until somebody gives one of them a good swift kick to the head (kidding, kidding, no one would actually hurt them, much).
I expect one of two things to happen when somebody wanders my house in the middle of the night: either the dogs should go apes*&t at the first hint of a sound, or they should just shut their traps. They should not wait until the Toddler is already standing beside me as I lie in my bed and THEN go apes#%t. They scared the crap out of the Toddler; she essentially jumped out of her skin and went into complete hysterics. And WOW was I pissed. Hello? If that had been a real intruder? The knife would already have been in my chest. What good are dogs that tell you someone is wandering your house if they don't hear anything until the person is already in your bedroom?
Alexis, for her part, was traumatized. I don't think she was expecting a leisurely stroll down the hall to end in being attacked by the two crappy guard dogs. I'd bet a whole lot of money that she won't try wandering the house again anytime soon.