It was again a sleepless Monday night, but I sit here with my hot green tea inside my personalized coffee mug and stare into a picture of the dog I care so much about that others have dubbed him my blind son. Monday nights after my husband and I have visited with Tyson are the least sleep involved. I tend to toss and turn, and awaken every few hours. The slightest musing or stir of any member in the household curbs all sleep effort because at least in here I have control. With Tyson, I have none. We are 7 months into his Monday visits, and although I am discouraged that he'll ever get into my home, I am as equally encouraged that I can still be helpful in some regard or other.