In which Florence recounts a stormy night in the McNeel House.
So, last night we had a storm. A big storm. The kind that sounds like the roof is cracking open, you know? I’m not going to lie, I probably would not have known this, or any of the household events, if it weren’t for Wiley’s non-stop panting and pacing and panicking.
Wiley is…um, terrified…like really terrified… of thunder.
So at some point in the night I heard him get up, panting and grunting. He muttered something under his breath about the Little Hairless Pup.
I was pretty groggy, but he either said, “Someone’s got to protect the pup.”
OR
“At least we know that they’ll protect the pup.”
So what he did next was either, like, the bravest thing anyone has ever done, or Wiley was in survival mode. I don’t know. I’ve known the man most of my life. It could have been either.
So around 4:30 am, I wake up again, still on my bed, mind you. Now Lewis is wandering around the house, flipping on lights, calling Wiley.
I can sleep through a thunderstorm, but I can’t sleep through Wiley getting all the attention. Unfortunately, I was still like half asleep, so I just stayed on my bed and tried to look cute.
Lewis looked for Wiley for, like, I don’t know, forever.
Finally, he noticed that the LHP’s door had been pushed open. Which is impressive, because Wiley lacks the necessary opposable thumbs to efficiently operate a doorknob. (I don’t know what that means, I just heard Bekah say it when she was marveling at his ability to escape from, mmm, pretty much anywhere.)
Wiley, it turns out, was wedged between the LHP’s crate and the window, shaking like crazy, but not making any noise. Hence the LHP was still asleep. So Lewis let him stay, and Wiley and the LHP stayed there until 7:30 am.
Bekah and Lewis were all, like, amazed at this. I don’t know why. Wiley always checks on the LHP, no matter how terrified he is. He doesn’t need to worry about me, because I can totally take care of myself. And I don’t worry about the LHP, because every time I do, she pokes me in the eye. She can obviously handle herself. But Wiley seems to think she needs him.
But camping out in her room during the storm was also brilliant strategy. Safest room in the house? Room with the LHP.
What does all of this prove? Aside from the fact that Wiley is either the… bravest or the…. cleverest?… guy I know, it proves that we should be allowed in the pups room, because we will NOT wake her up. Case. In. Point.