I still couldn't sleep and my imagination was playing tricks on me, I swore I could hear someone walking

My family owned two dogs while we lived in Pasadena, both were German Shepherds.  The last one we named Rexie; he was a cutie at six weeks old.  My little sister and I begged and begged to bring him home; my father relented as long as my sister and I took care of him; my sister was 12 and I was 13.  We brought Rexie home and set up a little corner in the kitchen for him to sleep. That night I could hear Rexie crying so I got up to comfort him and as soon as he settled down I went back to my room to sleep.  Again, I heard Rexie crying and repeated the comforting process.  After the third time I decided to let him "cry it out"; I was tired and had school the next day. Of course I lay there unable to sleep, feeling guilty that I was making my puppy suffer; just as I had made up my mind to go get him he quieted down.  I still couldn't sleep and my imagination was playing tricks on me, I swore I could hear someone walking; was that why the Rexie was quiet? Then my bedroom door; I didn't close it all the way so I could here Rexie if he needed me for more pressing issue than just comfort. The door began to open creeek. . . for a brief second I thought this was it I am dead; (oh the dramatic mind of a teenager) then I hear a little wimper, it was Rexie!  He slept with me the rest of the night and the night after that and so on. A few weeks later we discovered that Rexie was actually a Trixie; she was a great dog, my dog but someone stole her from our yard or so my father said.  This was just before we were evicted so I always wonder if my father knew what was coming.