the case of the midnight dog baby

Last night - or should I say very, very early this morning - I made contact with a critter so otherworldly I am somewhat afraid to even write about, for fear that it may return to haunt me during a future night, seeking to settle some sort of score. However, I value your entertainment over my nighttime safety, so I will tell the story anyway.

I was having a fairly difficult time reaching the state of slumber last night. I tossed and turned and rolled and rustled, but couldn't seem to find a comfortable enough position. As it was nearing 2am, my brain decided that it did not care what position my body was in, and was going to shut down whether the rest of me was ready or not. I let my eyes begin to close and my body relax, and at that moment, I felt a cold wind blow across my skin as I heard the squeaky growl of something that sounded like a prepubescent dingo of the night, coming from somewhere near the foot of my bed. If I didn't know better, I would have thought that the little creature had jumped onto my bed and was somewhere burrowing under my sheets, emitting his unpleasant snarl as he wiggled his way closer to me. Just in case of such a situation, I swiftly began beating the area of mattress surrounding all sides of my body. My flailing fists made no contact with any lurking beasts.

I fumbled around for my cellphone, which was somewhere on my bedside table, along with a full glass of water (which my panicked hands somehow managed to avoid knocking across the room). I figured that the cellphone light was my most available source of light without me having to actually touch my feet to the ground, which would have given the little dingo the chance to nibble at my toes. I nervously shined my brave cellphone light around the room, expecting to see the grinning eyes of some fur-covered wolfbaby crouched in the corner, preparing to leap into bed with me.

I had no intentions of exiting my bed until daybreak after not finding my perpetrator by the beam of my cellphone light. The truth is, I honestly didn't want to find whatever creature it was that emitted those wistful snorts at me through the inky darkness. I resorted to mummifying myself in my bedsheet by rolling my entire body tightly inside it, so that if my visitor returned, he wouldn't be able to make direct contact with my body- at least not right away. The more I thought about this, the less it comforted me. I realized how vulnerable I was having my hands restricted so tightly at my side. If perhaps the beast returned and were to dance about around my head, I would have no way of swatting him away with my hands, if they were bound to my waist. I unwrapped myself and prayed that whatever had been in my room would realize my innocence and good-nature and leave me be.

I quickly reached a level of fatigue when not even the cry of a forlorn dogchild could have kept me awake. My eyes apprehensively closed, and I drifted to sleep, never again to be visited by my unidentified intruder.