My husband and I have a queen-sized bed. And while it is definitely big enough for the two of us, space has always been at a premium. The cat has always felt that her rightful place at night is on the bed, on top of me. Typically she starts on my chest and works her way up. Some times I will wake up with her on furry butt on my pillow. In the warmer months, she will lie on top of the sheet perpendicular to me, stretched out completely from fluffy tail to wet nose, leaving approximately 8 inches of mattress between her and my husband. This is apparently my spot.
During the past 13 years, I have adjusted to the sleeping arrangement and learned to lie perfectly straight all night long. Well, all that has gone up in smoke.
Now that the dog is periodically allowed in the bedroom, she has decided that our bed is the perfect size for her. She had been content with the couch, but now that she has seen the promised land, as soon as we open the gate she jumps up on the bed and makes herself at home. She used to meet us at the gate every morning, lick our hands, kiss our faces and want to play. Now, once the gate swings far enough for her to slide through, she makes a break for it.
At night she is still required to sleep in the living room; the queen needs her throne after all. But some times, the dog is on top of things and while we are getting ready for bed, she sneaks through the gate and claims her stake on the bed. Right in the center with her head on the pillows. She looks so sweet and comfy that it is almost impossible to make her move. Almost. The hissing and growling coming from the floor on the other side of the bed reminds me that if I want to sleep through the night without suffocating with a fuzzy gray butt in my mouth, I need to remove the monster.
We sit down on the edge of the bed and have a little heart-to-heart. I tell her that I love her and while I would love to curl up next to her and cuddle all night long, her older sister needs some special time. Despite the fact that she isn't too happy with the dog's arrival, the cat doesn't go out to the living room and nose in while we are having a moment. The dog needs to grant that same courtesy to the cat. Then I kiss her on the head and walk away, assuming my speech hit home.
It did not. As soon as I turned around she laid her head back on the pillow and was content to sit back and relax. I had to pick her up and move her into the living room. She looked at me with sad, pathetic eyes and slumped down on the floor.
Believe it or not, I stood strong. I do have another child to think about here. But this now happens about once a week. The dog jumps up on the bed before we can close the gate and one of us has to move her back into the living room. Maybe the secret it not to get a bigger home, but to get a bigger bed. One that can fit the four of us. Do they make beds the size of small countries?
During the past 13 years, I have adjusted to the sleeping arrangement and learned to lie perfectly straight all night long. Well, all that has gone up in smoke.
Now that the dog is periodically allowed in the bedroom, she has decided that our bed is the perfect size for her. She had been content with the couch, but now that she has seen the promised land, as soon as we open the gate she jumps up on the bed and makes herself at home. She used to meet us at the gate every morning, lick our hands, kiss our faces and want to play. Now, once the gate swings far enough for her to slide through, she makes a break for it.
At night she is still required to sleep in the living room; the queen needs her throne after all. But some times, the dog is on top of things and while we are getting ready for bed, she sneaks through the gate and claims her stake on the bed. Right in the center with her head on the pillows. She looks so sweet and comfy that it is almost impossible to make her move. Almost. The hissing and growling coming from the floor on the other side of the bed reminds me that if I want to sleep through the night without suffocating with a fuzzy gray butt in my mouth, I need to remove the monster.
We sit down on the edge of the bed and have a little heart-to-heart. I tell her that I love her and while I would love to curl up next to her and cuddle all night long, her older sister needs some special time. Despite the fact that she isn't too happy with the dog's arrival, the cat doesn't go out to the living room and nose in while we are having a moment. The dog needs to grant that same courtesy to the cat. Then I kiss her on the head and walk away, assuming my speech hit home.
It did not. As soon as I turned around she laid her head back on the pillow and was content to sit back and relax. I had to pick her up and move her into the living room. She looked at me with sad, pathetic eyes and slumped down on the floor.
Believe it or not, I stood strong. I do have another child to think about here. But this now happens about once a week. The dog jumps up on the bed before we can close the gate and one of us has to move her back into the living room. Maybe the secret it not to get a bigger home, but to get a bigger bed. One that can fit the four of us. Do they make beds the size of small countries?
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