FALLING BACK WITH DOGS

The whining started at ...wait. What? 2:30 in the morning? Awww, come on doggies. No. It's 3:30, the usual time. But it isn't. Four dog biological clocks, artificially and painstakingly re-set six months ago agree that it is 3:30 in the morning and time for their middle-of-the-night trip for pee and a biscuit. (Not spoiled, these boys.) Then, between four and six in the morning it is time for breakfast. Or now, between three and five in the morning.
This ain't right.

But this is the type of expression that greets me when I finally haul myself up to turn on the light.
Pleading
Resigned
Accusatory
Intelligent
Demanding.

No sane dog, this expression says, would change the clocks. If you change the clocks, this face tells me, then be prepared to deal with the consequences of your actions. And the consequence today is:
we want to go pee and get a biscuit.

So out they go. I stagger to the back light and turn it on and view four dogs, all with raised legs. Moments later they are at the door. They rush in, get in their crates and wait for their reward for prying me out of bed into the cold, dark, unfriendly artificially-timed middle of the night.
We are good. I turn out the light and creep back into bed.
*****

The whining begins at...no. No. This cannot be. I was just up wasn't I just up?  It is pitch black outside. It used to be light at this time, which is....I squint blindly looking for the lights of the clock across the room. The clock says it is 4 in the morning. Something heavy is pressing down on me, shoving my ample body into the thin mattress. Something hot, hot and wet drips on my bare neck EEEEeeuuuwww! Attempting to sit up I re-focus my attention.

There is a huge black dog in my face.
He says:
It is time to get up and feed us. I, who have no crate, have been elected to remind you that your artificial time system, changed though you THINK it is, is not and WE, the majority in this household, say it is time to get out of bed and feed us, freshen our water, let us out of our crates into the day, even though according to you, it is far too early.

I get up. There is anticipatory whimpering and the sound of tails happily hitting the sides of crates.
SHE LIVES!
I feed everyone. I water everyone. I let them out. I sigh and moan and glare at the clock. It is an obscene time of day according to the clock but the  Basset Alarms have spoken. About the time they are used to the new schedule, it should be time to re-set the clocks again.
I get dressed. Turn on the coffee. Glare at the clocks.
The dogs, tummies full, thirst sated, morning ablutions complete do what they do best.

So much for the Government mandated "time change".