The Night

10:02pm - I open the door and three dogs fly past me, vanishing into the darkness. The outside light hasn't worked for a week now but there always seems to be something else to do and it's always at night when I realise that another day has gone by so fast. The light, despite my nightly good intentions, is still not working. I switch on my torch, hold it high and pan it across the garden. The beam of light finds my breath on the cold night air. I flick to the thermometer just outside my door. Minus three. Much warmer than of late. Out of the darkness comes a single bark and I swing the focus of the torch back to the garden. I don't need to see, to know who barked. I could probably pick out my dogs' voices in a pack of two dozen dogs. What interests me is what Rico barked at. The beam of light finds him up on the bank. He's looking down the street and I assume he's answering the good night call of one of the neighbours' dogs. Having poor hearing myself, I miss things like this. Rico, of course, doesn't. I move the shaft of light around the garden, seeking Nala and little Leo. It promptly finds two pairs of eyes moving rapidly towards me like heat seeking missiles. I step aside as they barrel past me back into the warm. I close the door behind them and walk further out. This is our routine. My big man likes to take his time. Last month I was still able to sit on the step and wait for him but the step is now covered in snow. I walk instead, up onto the garden and watch him. Up at the back, near the boundary hedge, is a large round stone. I often find him up there and tonight is no exception. He looks majestic, typical podenco. I love this stance and Rico has it perfected. Majestic but oh so modest and as I watch him, I am immediately reminded from his stance, that the podenco probably has direct links to ancient Egypt. What a tragedy that they are now so underrated and abused. I push the thought from my mind and call him in. Here he is not underrated, he is valued. Here he is not abused, he is adored. I close the door on the cold night and on thoughts of his past life and we go to bed.
10.18pm - By the time I've finished in the bathroom and turned off the computer and the lights, all three dogs are in bed. In my bed. Every night the same. All three of them laying exactly where I want to lay. Which is the point, I guess. In my physical absence, they are drawn to my scent. Still, however much understanding I have for their chosen positions, they are in my bed and I want to get in it. It's mine.
10.20pm - Three dogs with a combined weight of 45kg laying on my duvet. Me tugging, trying to shift them. They look at me. Their looks say it all, sorry we like it here, it reminds us of you.
10.22 pm - Begrudgingly, as if I've taken away their favourite thing, they get up almost in unison and move to the next bed. Three sighs follow as they take up their positions in the next part of the ritual. Nala, dives under the blanket, turns around three times and flops down. Sigh. Rico, gathers the remaining blanket together, making himself a nest, turns round approximately a hundred and three times and flops down. Sigh. Leo, waits patiently until the big ones are settled, and then, like the clever little man he is, dives under the duvet next to me. Sigh. For the next ten minutes I do nothing. Nothing except reflect upon the day as I feel the three of them completely relax and fall asleep.
11.45pm - I awake. The light is on. I lean to switch it off, feeling Leo's soft murmur as I move him. Darkness descends and we both fall asleep once more.
2.09am - It's like the steps to a dance, we've danced a thousand times before. I sense Nala standing by my side. Without fully waking, I lift up the duvet, she hops up beside me, stretches her body full length against mine and we are both asleep before I've lain the duvet and my arm across her. She doesn't need this every night, but when she needs it she comes, safe in the knowledge that she is and always will be, safe, cherished and my princess.
3:37am - I'm awoken by a noise I'm now familiar with. Rico is having a dream. A bad dream. His whimper is not like that of Nala or Leo when they dream. It's a sound that comes from somewhere deep inside him. It's the sound of his past. Usually, I lay my hand upon him and he relaxes but this night, he's out of reach. I flip on the night light and half sit up, I need to go to him. And then something remarkable happens. Little Leo crawls out from where he's sleeping, goes to Rico, peers at him and then very gently begins to lick his face. I lay back and watch, mesmerised. In seconds the whimpering stops, Leo flops down by the big man's side and falls asleep. I turn off the light and lay in the darkness unable to believe what I've just witnessed. And yet I shouldn't really be surprised. The bond between these two is stronger every day. Yes, Rico still has his grumpy old man moments when the pipsqueak gets on his nerves, but it's very clear that he's changing since this little guy's arrival. He's freer, more playful and delights in the smallest things. To observe them at play, two podencos, born 5 years apart but within a day of each other, is to marvel at the podencos' resilience and their capacity to love, against all the odds. It's a privilege to be a part of it.
5.19am - I roll over and there's a warm little body next to mine. Leo is back. He wriggles himself effortlessly into my arms as if he's been doing this all his life. He rests his head on my shoulder and I can feel his podenco puppy breath on my face. We fall asleep.
6.45am - An internal alarm clock, born of a primitive need - hunger, wakes Nala. She stretches, slides out of bed and shakes. The others are awake in an instant. The day must begin.

The night, is over.