I know he’s here somewhere

Mr Douggie the Doggie managed to break the penultimate rule a while ago and was allowed to start sleeping in our bedroom with us. The ultimate rule is ‘no dogs on the bed’ which he tries to break on a regular basis but gets met with a sharp ‘GET OFF!!’ Every other rule in the book went by the board a long time ago. “I’ll never let him on the furniture”,  for instance. Now he just jumps up and gets settled wherever and whenever he feels like it, usually using me as a pillow. Ok, I admit it, I like the doggie snuggles while I’m watching a bit of evening telly.

To be fair, we only relaxed the bedroom rule so he could alert us if he was going to have a seizure but I have to be honest, I hate him being in the bedroom.

As if Boofuls doesn’t make enough noise in his sleep now I also have to contend with the pooch snoring, dreaming, smacking his lips, flopping around all over the floor rather than sleeping on his own lovely chocolate coloured bed, stretching, twitching  and scratching, waking me up for a cuddle in the middle of the night ( you’d think he’s know that that was going to be a non starter) and generally having me awake half the night wondering if he’s ok.

A side effect of being woken up seventy five times a night is that I need to visit the bathroom more than I used to. There must be a direct link between my eyeballs and my bladder.  As soon as I open my eyes my bladder says  hello.

Going to the bathroom during the night never used to be an issue. Get up, walk to bathroom, pee, walk back, get back into bed. Easy. However, now we’ve changed the bedroom carpet it’s not so easy. I climb out of my lovely warm bed and then stand there for a minute trying to decipher where in the room Douggie is. Spotting a cream coloured dog on a cream coloured carpet in a room that’s blacker than a black thing because there’s no such thing as street lighting where we live, is no mean feat.

Once I’ve successfully located him, by peering like Mr Magoo into the dark, I usually find him stretched out to his full length at some impossible angle and nowhere near his bed, I have to try and get past him without standing on him. Again, easy. You think?

In the good old days before I developed plantar fasciitis it was ok. Now my poor feet tingle and throb and just don’t want to move. My first four or five steps look remarkably like those of your average 100 year old, wobbly, painful and uncertain. One move from Douggie as I’m gingerly stepping over him will see me go ear over elbow in a most ungainly fashion.

Amazingly, by the time I’ve reached the bathroom door I’m able to walk normally again so the walk back to bed is nowhere near as treacherous. I climb back into my lovely warm bed and snuggle down trying to get back to sleep before the next disturbance which usually happens as the first rays of light are just starting to break through and Douggie decides it’s time to get up.  He sticks his cold, snotty wet nose on my face and bashes his tail against the radiator like a gong.

My first words of every day used to be “Good morning, darling.” Now it’s “Feck off, dog! It’s fecking 6 o’clock!”. It’s no way to start the day. Of course then I’m wide awake so I lie there fuming for a while telling my eyeballs not to tell my bladder I need a wee and then I end up getting up.

With the amount of sleep deprivation I have at the moment it’s amazing I’m not walking round every day tearing the heads of people and breathing fire. These seizures have got a lot to answer for. Tell me again why I wanted a dog.

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6 thoughts on “I know he’s here somewhere”

  1. I can sympathise! Pearl’s bed is in the bedroom because there’s no room for it anywhere else and I have to wear earplugs so I can’t hear her licking, snoring, burrowing and occasionally giving herself a good hard shake.

    1. Of course! The shaking, I forgot about that bit! Let’s hope I never get to the earplug stage. When I suggest to Boofuls that he sleep in the spare room because of his snoring I might suggest that he takes the dog with him. I can imagine that going down like a lead balloon 😀

  2. One of my friends just adopted a Shih Tzu and I kid you not, we were having a conversation about dogs in beds last night. After learning my lesson from letting Pierre in the bed, poor Charlotte is forced to sleep in her bed. My friend is all for their new puppy staying in the kennel. Her hubby started in with, “But no…she’s only 10 weeks old and was just separated from her mother and siblings. She has separation anxiety…I can feel it.” It was at that point I was grateful for having neither a husband nor a dog in my bed. “Let sleeping old bats lie.” That’s my thought. I….WANT…TO…SLEEP at night – what’s wrong with that? 😉

    1. Nothing wrong with that at all Vanessa, it seems perfectly reasonable to me. I put my foot down with a firm hand when Douggie came to wake me up this morning. I just turned my back on him and completely ignored him. I heard a huge ‘huff’ and then he went back to bed until my alarm went off. Yay!

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