3:30 Wake-Up Call

Hoover became agitated early this morning and woke me up because I am a woman and hear things in the night . He then woofed, and woofed again, and I dragged myself, bleary-eyed and slightly alarmed, out of bed and into my robe, and out to the kitchen where, less than a week earlier, Hoover had announced my arrival to an equally alarmed (but less sleepy) Ian. There was no one at the door, and I went to the window to see if our raccoon had come back. No, but there was a bit of something dark and green dropped just inside the gate, with a scribbled note on it. Craig? I thought, supposing that our crazy friend had been in attendance to return something, but no,it was Ian's jacket--the jacket I had handed to him--with his acknowledgement and gratitude, mind you--as he ran out the door to his taxi. Evidently however, not having remembered to collect it himself, it was not in his mind as one of the things he was taking on his trip, and so he left it in the cab. The cabbie, a wonderful man, brought it by at the end of his shift, with a note explaining that he had picked up a man who worked for NOA and was on his way to Hawaii from our corner and this was his--could I maybe get it back to him?

Hoover was confused about why Ian wasn't in the jacket, but went back to bed anyway, and this time let me sleep until 9. I think we'll be okay, if a little sad, without dad.