Being a small dog has many advantages. One of them is being able to sleep comfortably in the big bed at night. If I want to snuggle with my parents, I can, but if I get tired of their constant twitching, or their overly excessive body heat, I can move to the end of the bed and sleep independently.
Sometimes I love to snuggle in bed, but it has to be on my terms. I walk up the mattress to where my parents are sleeping and then launch myself like a 14-pound cannonball against their backs. They wake up momentarily. The comfort of my body lulls them back to sleep. But if I am asleep and one them rolls over then snuggles next to me I stand up, stare at them, give them my most disgusted look, and reposition myself.
I don’t mind sharing the bed with my parents, but Pocket can be a bother. A couple of weeks ago I got a new harness with a plunging neckline. It is very sexy. Pocket was still wearing her old tag ring which was slightly open because of the number of times her notifications have changed. That night Pocket slept too close to me, and her ring caught on my harness. I was stuck next to her for the whole evening. Hideous!
Sometimes sleeping in the bed baffles me. I like getting under the covers, but I can’t do that because I am standing on top of the blankets and when I try to go under something is weighing everything down. My parents have tried to show me how to step off the blankets and go under the covers, but I don’t understand. Stupid covers!
Of course, with everyone moving and thrashing sleep gets disturbed and when that happens to me, I lead with barks and bites. Pocket is usually my target. My parents awaken and reach blindly to grab and separate else. One night, one of us, gave Daddy a good bite on the thumb. Pocket says it wasn’t her because she doesn’t have the jaw strength. Now that is the definition of a weak excuse.
Occasionally a dingleberry turns up in the bed. We try to convince our parents it is a sign of a Foley dream date. While it is the type of thing, Foley would do I don’t think we have our parents convinced. They run from the bed like there was an angry lobster under the covers. I say dingleberries happen.
I do love the bed. I hate getting out of it, even to eat. I would spend all day three if I could. I would make an outstanding invalid.
If anyone wants a dog to sleep with, let me know. I have lots of experience, and I am great in bed.
Or so I have been told.