Most of the victories we count in this house are small — an afternoon nap, a day without barking at squirrels, dinner on the table, laundry folded. But sometimes we achieve a big victory, and it feels good.
You’re thinking bottle, right?
Nope, not a chance.
Still battling on that one.
Maybe I should back up to when I was pregnant and started sleeping with a dozen and a half pillows. Or maybe further back to July 2005 when we adopted the yellow dog. She started out in the crate — that much I remember. But I don’t think it was long before she was in our bedroom. It was never a big deal; sometimes she slept on the bed, and most often she slept pressed up against a heater. (The heating system in that house wasn’t exactly stellar.)
Then in September 2006 we got Linus, and he went straight to the bed and has never looked back since. Though that wasn’t a big deal, either, and if he gets hot or uncomfortable, he has no problem jumping down to the floor or changing rooms. Linus sleeps on his back with his paws up in the air, which has always been fine. But recently, his senior status (I mean, he is somewhere in the range of 7-9 years old after all) has started complicating things. He gets hairballs, he chokes on his own doggy tongue, and he wakes up gagging. Not exactly pleasant.
And of course in January 2010 we got the little brown dog. She insisted on sleeping on the bed also, though she required a step to get up there since her coordination (and leg length) is lacking. So we let her up, too, since it only seemed fair. But unlike the other two who like to be close but still like their space, this one likes everyone else’s space. She likes to drape over your body, sleep on your pillow, and — most of all — be within face-licking range.
But in the end it never really mattered until I got pregnant, and then I needed my space. Even then, since I required a massive number of pillows in order to fall asleep (and not sleep in any of the 5835230950324809853 positions that apparently are against the rules for pregnant women), it was G who was stuck with the dogs draped over him. And that was okay because, let’s face it, G is pretty good at falling asleep.
But now I’m not surrounded by pillows, the puppies want their space back, and I’ve gotten used to sleeping without them. And, more importantly, tiny Nell is in a cradle next to the bed each night and (I would imagine) sleeps much better when her mother is not having an all-out war for space on the bed with (most often) the brown dog. After all, when one wants to swear loudly at a little dog who refuses to budge in the middle of the night, it’s easier to do when little ears aren’t sleeping a foot away.
And so — even though we had said time and time again that the dogs would have to stop sleeping on the bed — this time we meant it. And last night, two puppies — one brown and one black — discovered what dog beds feel like. (Yellow is downstairs with Grandma Judy and loving it.) And to our surprise, there was minimal sulking, NO whimpering, and both dogs slept like babies (proverbial babies, of course, as opposed to our actual baby who does NOT sleep well enough to merit a saying).
Besides, even if they don’t want to sleep on dog beds, they’ve still got leather couches. So they’re not exactly suffering, yanno?
Stick to your guns, girl! Take back your bed! Hysterical…….oh, my, how life changes……. 🙂