Our puppy, Riley, is really, really cute
And it’s his cuteness that, some days—or in this case, nights—is the only thing that keeps him alive.
Truth be told, I wouldn’t hurt the little guy, ever. But I would seriously think about throwing him out of our bedroom.
Because, my friends, you just haven’t lived until you’ve awakened with a dog butt right in your face.
This whole thing of letting the dog sleep in our bed began with our first dog, Scooby. We rescued the little guy from a shelter, and he was so clingy. When he came to our home, my husband and I spent the first three nights nearly going nuts because he was in a crate in our living room, crying his fuzzy little eyes out.
On the third night, we just couldn’t take it anymore. “Do you want me to go get him?” my husband asked. (Let me point out that he asked me this question so that if it didn’t work out, I would be the one who wanted the dog up in our bed.)
“What do you think?” I asked, throwing the decision back to him.
“Let’s just bring him up,” he said.
A minute or so later, Scooby came bounding up the stairs and attempted to jump on our bed. I want to say that he made it the first time, but I really don’t know. Scooby was short, and while he would go running into the adjoining bathroom and then come running back full force for the whopping three feet between the two rooms, he would usually scale the bed.
Sometimes, though, he would barely make it and slide down the side of the comforter onto the floor. Undaunted, he would begin backing up into the bathroom for another try.
Sleeping with Scooby in the bed was a challenge. He often would start out sleeping parallel to my husband and me, down by our feet. But sometime during the night, he would shift and become perpendicular.
So if someone broke into our home and came into our bedroom, the three of us would look like a giant letter H.
Trust me; this is not a comfortable position–especially when the dog puts the legs that he most stretches out directly into your stomach.
A lot of times, we would move him during the night, and he would stay there. Unless, of course, he had to go to the bathroom.
If Scooby had to go out during the night, there was good news and bad news. The good news is that he wouldn’t go on the floor of our bedroom. That is always a good thing. Especially for those of us who walk barefoot and may be heading to the bathroom before sunrise.
That part of his needing to go out was very, very good.
The bad news was that he would come up to the top of the bed and climb onto my husband’s pillow until his body was literally in a U shape around Brad’s head.
The first few times this happened (and it usually went on to happen about once a week), Brad was startled and freaked out when he was woken up that way. But he got used to it, and would often try to pretend he was still sleeping.
Scooby knew he was faking and would then begin licking him in the face until he would say, “Okay, okay! I’ll take you out.”
We used to joke that we should set up a “Scooby shoot,” which would be a sliding board that would go from our upstairs bedroom window down to the yard. We would simply open the window, put Scooby on the slide, and watch as he flew down into the yard.
But there were a few problems with this. First, someone might thing that this was dog abuse, and we didn’t want that to happen—especially considering that we pampered this dog to the point of just being short of carrying him around on a red velvet pillow.
And secondly, we had no idea how he would get back up to our bedroom. One of us would have to go down and get him anyway, so what was the point?
I remember the first time that my Mom “dog sat” for us when we went away for a weekend. I called her in the morning to see how our boy did without us.
“I woke up with your dang dog on my head!” my mom exclaimed.
Turns out that we forgot to tell her his “I need to go out” signal.
Check in next time to find out what Riley, the overactive pup, is like to sleep with. You won’t want to miss it.
Michele Wojciechowski, when she’s not moving a dog away from her stomach while trying to sleep, writes Wojo’s World™ from her home office in Baltimore.