Notes in Parentheses

Fio was awakened once in the middle of the night by Sonia so her majesty could go outside and squat (note to self: make sure doggie does duty before bedtime from now on), then, a couple of hours later, by a GERD attack (note to self: steer clear of  the Hershey brand of hot chocolate and chocolate cake from now on), then, sometime after dawn, by Sonia insisting on going out again, but this time to bark back and forth to the neighbor dogs.

Why? Foggy-brained Fiorella looked outside and didn't see any deer invasions, but did hear a familiar grinding sound. THE TRASH PICK UP! Fio and Husband had filled the trunk of his car with trash bags last night, and she had volunteered to get up early and get it all to the curb before the disposal service arrived.

Suddenly wide awake, Fiorella tightened the tie of her heavy, floor-length red winter robe, shoved her feet into the nearest shoes available, grabbed the car keys, drove up to the road, hurled the bags of trash into the can, and wheeled it into place for the pick up. She probably missed the pick up, but at least the trash is out of the trunk of the car (note to self: better late than never, but try to be more attentive from now on).