I got a call at 5:24 this morning. Margaret said that Dad had fallen in the bathroom and he couldn't get up. I said I would be right over and I was. I'm glad to say that it was easy to get him up and I'm gladder to say that he was unhurt. I was back in bed within a half hour of getting the call. So yay.
Funny thing is, I'm not sure that this phone rings loudly enough to wake me up. Harry had been bugging me, either for more food or to be let out or both since before 5, the weasel. Of course, it's possible he was going full Lassie on me and knew psychically that Dad had fallen. It's quite possible; whether he would give a damn is another question. He gobbled the additional food and then took advantage of me going out to reclaim his freedom, so I think we can safely conclude where his priorities lay. Of course I'm glad retroactively that he woke me up. Maybe I'll let the phone spend the night closer to me.
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