Yappers

A dog, barking somewhere in the building, was preventing Anne’s sleep.

She was tired – exhausted, really – but still, the yap yap yap was going on like some kind of automated toy, regular in its alarming nuisance.

It sounded like a small dog, one of those toy poodle perhaps, or a miniature terrier of some kind. But the smallest dogs are the most annoying, with their need to constantly assert their existence to the world. Anne could certainly commiserate with that, but not at 12:30 in the morning, on a day when she had been up since 5:00am and running around like the proverbial headless chicken.

Headless dog, soon to be, she thought to herself.

Finally another neighbour – she wasn’t sure which, but it didn’t matter – gave a booming, “Shut the fuck up!” The dog was silent.

Anne started to drift off to blissful sleep, when it started again. Not the yap yap yap, but a deeper, slightly more distance bark. A response to the yapper. Four barks later, it stopped, but the yapping started again.

Anne made a note go have stern words with the neighbour with the dog, come the morning. For now, she turned over and waited for another lull, hopeful she could fall asleep fast enough before it was rejoined.

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