By the time Murphy left, Ray was more than ready to see her go. I just knew he was thinking of the Benjamin Franklin quote "Guests, like fish, begin to smell after three days." It was day four of the sleepover.
When I would get ready to take the dogs for a walk, Ray would pull against his leash, hanging back in the house. I could see him thinking, "Yeah, that's a good idea. You take her home. I'll just wait here."
When we would get back from the walk Ray would enter the house first and try to bite Murphy's neck as she entered after him. Then Murphy would race to the dog door, Ray would follow at break-neck speed to make sure she wasn't stealing any bones that remained buried in the backyard. Then there was the requisite tearing around and wrestling. But Ray was tired. And so was Murphy.
By the time Josh and Rachel arrived last night to pick up Murphy, both dogs were practically comatose. When her parents walked through the door, Murphy went ballistic with happiness. And so too did Ray. He jumped up on Josh, absolutely thrilled that he and Rachel were there to take his houseguest home. While Gregg and I talked to Rachel and Josh about their trip and told them what a good dog they have, Murphy planted herself by the front door and waited will ill-concealed impatience to get the heck out of here. She wasn't going to let either one of them out of her sight again. No more sneaking off in the dead of night to fly to sunnier places, no siree. Josh slipped Murphy's collar on, Rachel picked up Murphy's bed, and they left.
Ray walked over to his bed, his head practically dragging the floor. He collapsed into the cushion with his usual groan, curled himself into a tiny little ball, and fell fast asleep.
This morning he didn't really start moving until almost 10 o'clock. We took a brief walk around the ice-encrusted block (an ice storm hit last night), and I sat down to blog. Ray jumped up on the couch with me and passed out.
One tired dog.