Lighthouse

It's two thirty a.m. A nudge from Cag. The dog is whining. Got to be his ears ( he's had ear problems since he was a pup ).................. or he needs to go out, I think to myself.

I get up and go into the hall. The kitchen door is open. In the kitchen I find my mother has fallen..................... and is sat in the dog's basket! She's distressed.

"I can't go, I can't go.....", she keeps repeating. "Don't let me go", she says. I settle her and manage to bring her back to the here and now. It's a dream that's turned into reality for her. We'd talked about going out during the day, and these thoughts had turned into the real thing, albeit in the middle of the night.

Now the problem of moving her. Luckily Cag's wheelchair strips down, and after a struggle I get my mother onto it. I manage to get her back into bed, with less trouble that I'd expected, and within minutes, she is back to sleep.

I check the dog. He's not flat, so he must have got out of his basket in time when my mother tried to sit on him!

This morning she was bruised, and a little sorry.................. for the dog. It appears that he had escaped the basket just in time. He had wriggled out from in under her, she said, as she slid down the wall. It was probably the truth, as he has given her a wide berth today. He's disappeared every time she has gotten out of her chair. Wise dog!