The day I brought this sweet chunk o' love home from the pound (he was livin on the mean city streets can you even comprehend?) he walked right on in the front door of our townhome, wagged his little bum and began to run through every room, sniffing everything along the way until he was satisfied, at which point he sat down with a sigh and looked at me as if to say "This is great. I love it here!". There was no 'adjustment period'...he fell in love with us instantly and completely as doggies tend to do.
The first night with us he tested the waters and sniffed and whined around the bed. Well let me tell you sir, we put a stop to that right quick.We were certainly not dog-in-the-bed people. Fast forward a few months to a painfully unhappy situation which found me crying and heartsick in the guest room. That dog...I swear that dog saw his opportunity and boy did he snag it. Up onto the guest bed he hopped, licked my tears off my face and promptly plopped down and passed out in a small corner of the bed.
It's been an uphill battle since then. I'm losing. I thought I gained some ground a few weeks ago in the new apartment when he spent two (forced) nights on his amazingly wonderful (seriously it has like...four blankets) dog bed. Nope. Because do you know where that doggie of ours now squishes his sleepy self when he stays at my apartment? Right next to me. Stretched out as happy as could be with his very own half of a queen bed.
You know...where someone else would be sleeping, if I weren't single as ever.
I maintain he knew exactly what he was doing since day one.
Awwwww, Rammers ...
ReplyDelete