Rogue tells it how it is...

Twelve hours ago I was jumping out of the shower and scurrying to my job (of which I love but refer to as Food Prostitution to give it more flair than TGIFridays) when it occurred to me that sleeping for a few hours would be really really wonderful. I look over at Rogue who lay sprawled out on her back on the couch, her front limbs stretched above her head and her rear paws reaching as far as they can limply go on that beat up but far too comfy damn orange sectional. She looks like Canaan and I must have when we spent way too much time watching X-Files (or Judge Judy- oh so sad),  lazing about in 1oo degree weather with our eyes wincing from either the heat or a hang over, which we couldn't really tell. I walk over and say her name. No response. I pick up her head and she squints at me with one eye, the other still closed, almost wincing: a warning that it isn't going to work; she's ignoring me. When I let go, her head falls: dead weight. She lets out a little sigh, and in 1 minute is snoring. I was jealous of her afternoon nap briefly but then I realized, she earned it.

I started thinking that maybe I sleep half the day because my neighbors are obnoxious, and Rogue wakes me up to warn me when they are being so. That wasn't very clear... basically they are either fighting loudly or having make up sex loudly at any given moment of the day. Preferably 5 AM but hey... noon is okay too, and so is 5 PM. Prior to my neighbor's girlfriend living there- and I don't really know she lives there but I hear her shrill voice often enough to assume she must- he was a really quiet guy. Other than the occasional sound of video games and death metal, never a peep. Actually, I still never hear him. I just hear the sound of a late teenage or early 20-something speaking all too loudly (and therefore identifying her age, or maybe complete instability at age 40):

"He has a girlfriend you f*%k!" (she definitely cheated)

"You never listen to me!" (How cliche. For the record: he has no choice, they can hear you in mongolia)

"Please just stop being such an as#$%le!" (please?! Really lady?)

"You are soooo stupid!" (but you sound so stupid)

(And other things of which I don't want to hear- and certainly not speak about- but we've all fallen victim to that as part of life in an apartment setting.)

When this happens Rogue and I scowl at the wall wishing we had some sort of superpower where we could either instantly stitch her mouth shut, freeze her or maybe just drop a pan on her head. Rogue lets out a little growl, quietly. 

 

Rogue is really intuitive... she knows when people are freaks. In fact, she has never disliked anyone I have had in my home save one woman who came to my house a few years ago with a friend. She was peculiar as it was but when she asked us to play a "sex game" she had in the car, we were all blown away. Luckily, none of us played this "sex game", thinking the request really strange of someone we had met just a few hours before. I imagine now it would have ended something like this: all of us tied up with cuts all over our bodies like the husband no one knew she had. Rogue hated her. She growled at her under her breath and backed away from her. At the time I thought Rogue was just being inexplicably moody but after I read the story in the paper, I decided to trust her instinct. If she growls in a fearful but harmless way at some one's voice... stay away! Rogue is right about them and a girl like me could use a side kick who, unlike myself, isn't amused by crazy people (remember when I prayed with that old lady from the cult on the Commons for an hour and was late to work? Yeah, I felt bad for her, but an hour?! And the horror of watching Jesus' crucifixion in flip-book form!)

So I realize, maybe I don't get the afternoon nap, and maybe I need to pimp the potatoes but hey, at least I know I don't have to keep track of the neighbors because Rogue does it for me. Rogue is well beyond the sacrifice of being woken up at 5 AM, and I am now too. I love that little growl...