Recliners Have River Befuddled

I am a dog who enjoys the simple life.  I want my breakfast, with a watermelon appetizer, some food while my parents enjoy dinner, preferably chicken, followed shortly by my supper, then a treat bone at night, and some kibble before bedtime.  I don’t mind a walk, neither do I demand one.  Most of all I want the human touch.

And that is what causes me problems.  My parents have two recliners that are separated by an end table.  Jumping on these chairs can prove a challenge.  I have creaky, uncooperative knees, but since I am on supplements, I have more confidence when I take flight.

I am a trained dog who graduated at the top of my class.  I know I am supposed to be invited to go on the furniture.  My parents tell me to come sit with them, but sometimes I am not sure if they mean it.  “Come on River, come up,” my parents plead.  Are they just being polite?  This question ties me in knots.

I begin to spin on the floor and hunch my back.  One of my parents will get out of their chair and reach for me.  While I love contact, I want to be the one who initiates it.  I lean away from them and keep turning trying to screw myself into the floor before I am gently lifted up.

Switching chairs is also an issue.  I love sitting with both of my humans, but over time I consume all their warmth and need to move to a hotter body.  For some reason my Dad’s chair swivels.  This is good because it can be maneuvered so the footrests are next to one another and I only have to take a step to go from one chair to the other.

But I don’t know when the chair is going to move.  My Dad says he controls it, but I am not sure.  I don’t want to be midstep and have the chair move, and I fall on my face.   It is a very tricky chair.   Sometimes I gently put a paw on it like I am testing water temperature before I jump.  My parents keep telling me it is safe to go but I am worried the chair is going to spin out of control.  It is a lot of work to get on a lap in my house.

If it were up to me, we would move the bed into the living room, and my parents could stay in it all day.  It never moves, and my parents sit together so I can easily go from one to the other.  That wouldn’t relieve my reluctance to jump on the bed uninvited, but I am sure with a few modifications, a water dish and food bowl holder screwed into the end of the bed, I would never get down.

Why sit in a chair when there is bed?  Humans are a never-ending mystery to me.