I had planned to be asleep at midnight. New Year’s Eve plans fell through when I got mixed up on what part of the country I needed to be in—so yesterday’s primary events were frantic packing, driving ten hours, shivering while the house heated back up to “inhabited”, and crawling into bed. The border collie, Beckett, who has finally gotten used to travel—but missed his run in all this, handled it fairly well and settled in to sleep on a blanket dropped on the dining room floor.
Until midnight. At exactly midnight, Beckett started barking loudly—generally freaking out.
He does this occasionally. The primary thesis is that his ears are better than ours are (by a lot) and that he heard New Year revelry and disapproved. We live close enough to a highway that he sometimes gets upset by traffic accidents.
I prefer the alternate explanation. Beckett is sensitive to mortality and sought to chase off the New Year. Border collies are famous for getting sheep to behave in an orderly manner. With Beckett, it’s a similar thing, but instead of sheep, it’s death.